Yesterday started out like any other. I called attendance, got settled, and asked what they thought of the text.
Crickets.
Some mangled, read-straight-from-the-text crap answers.
Crickets.
More fucking crickets.
"Be honest. Be really, really honest. Who read the text, thoroughly?"
Three hands raised.
Usually on it Dan: "But it was my birthday! I read through it all, just not carefully...."
"...First off, you should ALL be reading it carefully like your responsible classmates, but who read through the WHOLE text but not 'carefully'?"
Ten more hands raise.
"Seriously guys? Seriously? You couldn't read thirteen pages?"
Cue the five minute bitch fest about it being supremely ironic that a) this is the shortest assignment I've had them read the entire semester, b) this is what happens when students don't uphold their end of the deal in discussion, which each and every one of them said was the best way to teach in their first papers, and c) the chapter was on how to carefully, critically read a text and build a response to it -- the thing every single first essay I've graded so far hasn't done.
So I set them in groups of three and had them work through the steps in the chapter on the internal essay (maybe 15-20 steps). Most had to actually read the essay first. It took them an hour. While they did that I wrote about five or six different sections of grammar issues that I'd seen on their papers on the board.
Once they all finished, there was another warning.
"If this ever happens again, if I ever have to say this same thing, you will be sent home, lose your participation points for the day, and there will be an exceedingly hard quiz worth many, many points over the reading the next class period."
I then explained they were in charge of reading and comprehending each section of grammar on the board, that I'd get through what I could by the end of the hour (ten minutes away) but the rest was on them. That I expected there not to be any of those mistakes on their next paper and there would be a grammar test in their future. Not near future, but at some point decently soon.
I ended up getting through two sections.
As they filed out, there was silence. Peaceful, lovely silence as they left.
My second class was on the ball, actually mentioning how short the chapter was in their observations. They understood the material, were able to apply it, etc. Their discussion ended with over half an hour to go over grammar. I ended up letting them out five minutes early with only two sections to deal with on their own. The only issue that had with that class the entire time was Rude Rita who, as soon as she realized we were going over grammar the rest of the period, decided she was just going to get up and leave, walking right in front of me as she did so. Interesting as her paper was one of the worst grammatically.
This morning I woke up and checked my work email. What do I find there? An email from one of the kids in the first class apologizing, saying she reads but doesn't want to talk in class (except to her friends...) but that she would try to be better, that hopefully the entire class would try to be better.
I'm still not sure what I think of that.
Different classes have their own distinct personalities based on the subtle and mysterious interplay between students. I.e., they have their own dynamic.
ReplyDeleteI have back-to-back comp. classes, one with 20 students, the next with 12. They are light NIGHT AND DAY. The 20 are noisy, usually cooperative, and full of energy. The 12 are like teaching in a morgue. Could be that the latter starts at 7 p.m., and we're all tired as shit, but maybe not...
And as we all know, ONE student can change the whole dynamic of a class, too. Put one turd in the punchbowl and it fucks it up for everyone. Even the ancient Chinese knew this, as expressed in this proverb:
"One mouse dropping ruins the whole pot of rice porridge."
Indeed. I've had poo-ing mice in many of my classes. Luckily, not this semester.
I've had the apologizer, too, although mine apologized for her entire class's inability to follow the directions that would let them register for access to a website. And I thought "dear Lord, are you Catholic like me?" It is, indeed, all my/her fault.
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