 |
| Ann Archademic |
2. In a final email, a student suggests it is unfair of me to consider attendance since I did not previously specify that this is part of their participation grade. Student does not explain how it is possible to participate in class discussion without attending class.
3. Grading expands to fill all the available time before grades are due.
(1) Sometimes I will, but sometimes I won't. I did explain to a non-major what "careening" means, which was on a general-ed astronomy final. I refused to answer to an engineering student how many radians are in a circle, which was on a physics final. That's dangerously innumerate for an engineer: criminy, the ancient Greeks knew that, and so did I in 5th grade, and we entrust 21st century technology to this bonehead? I suggested he work it out from a line integral (which is my favorite quick, easy way to explain what a line integral is). (The answer is 2 pi.)
ReplyDelete(2) If it's on the syllabus, I tell the student, "IT'S ON THE SYLLABUS." That trumps everything, and they all know it. My syllabus is now 16 pages long. It a ponderous thing, dreadful to behold, which of course no student reads, but I know what's in it.
(3) Yup. That's why whenever a student puts out a lip about "turnaround time," I reply with the date that grades are officially due, and observe, "You wouldn't like me rushing your paper."
P.S. The best legitimate reason for why one of my engineering majors missed so much of the semester: because he was recovering from having his severed hand re-attached. Now you know one reason I'm so cagey about giving them 21st-century technology.
DeleteOne of my least favorite comments from a student evaluation: "Whenever I ask her a question, she tells me where to find it on the syllabus or the website. I want the answer to my question. I do not like to be redirected."
DeleteOh, I'm not recommending always redirecting students. I know very well that my students don't read the syllabus. At 16 pages of complex legalese, I wouldn't either.
DeleteMuch of what I really do need to have on the syllabus is fairly complex anyway (such as which labs to do on which weeks, and what alternative labs to do if the weather isn't good enough). I therefore remind students at the beginning of every class what will be happening in the coming week, including all homework and exams. If they complain that I'm "ripitive," then so be it.
I find that the primary function of saying, "IT'S ON THE SYLLABUS" is to win arguments. They'll argue with me, but rarely will they argue with the syllabus. If they do, I can fire back that their being registered for the class and not dropping it means they will accept all the terms in the syllabus: it explicitly says so at the end.
If they then whine, "IT'S NOT FAIR," I can retort with, "IT'S ON THE SYLLABUS." Two can play at this game, and I play rather well. I have an attention span much longer than nearly any modern student, you know.
I think we got our wires crossed. When I redirect, I'm always very specific, not just "It's on the syllabus" but "It's on the syllabus on Page X under Heading Y." Almost always, the things I get challenged on are basic things that I've warned them about even before class begins, reviewed during the first week of class, and reiterated throughout the term. I usually remind them of those facts as well.
DeleteI think they should be redirected. They should always read the syllabus before they come whining about anything. After all, the reason the damned thing is 16 pages long is one student each term always coming up with some new, stupid thing that anyone with common sense would know not to do. When it's not "in the syllabus," then some administrator along the chain will not back us up. Thus the syllabus is well on its way to becoming the same length as a textbook because they obviously need all these policies in writing.
Frod, your posts make me want to cry.
ReplyDeleteI was a returning student, having flunked out in 1971. After I got out of the Air Force in 1976, I decided a college degree would help me live a better life. With the VA and CLEP credits I started back, and finally graduated in 88, having wasted a year by not responding when the VA said I took some classes that I shouldn't have and they wanted their money back.
In all that time the syllabi were, at most, two pages. It seems to me that after the listings about dates, chapters and times, the rest could be boiled down to two points.
1. Show up.
2. Learn this stuff. That means buy the textbook, bring paper, bring pen, bring a tape recorder if you have to, read the book, take notes. Everything else is the student's responsibility. If you don't know something or how to do something, find a way to learn it.
I do agree that this is the result of parents wanting to be their child's "best friends."
Having allowed lawyers to run wild also had something to do with it. Whenever describing modern academia to anyone who went to college before 1990, when it still meant something, I feel like Clarence Oddbody introducing George Bailey to Potterville by saying, "You're going to see things you don't like here."
DeleteI don't know why I should give a shit what they like. Really. So they don't like being pointed back to the syllabus? So what?
ReplyDeleteActually, I only re-direct them to the syllabus in my online class. This is because I just don't want to retype all that shit over and over and over and over. But I DO link the little angels to the correct section of the syllabus (I am one of the few who loves Blackboard. I never claimed to be a normal person.). STILL they complain.
I do agree with Frod that referring back to the syllabus is a great way to win arguments. I actually state on my syllabus that it is a legal document, and I make them sign a page at the end that they have received it, had it explained to them, and been given the opportunity to ask questions. HA. HowdoyalikemeNOW?
I should have added a number 3: Don't piss the prof off!!! This cannot be stressed too strongly.
ReplyDeleteAbout 15 years ago, as a TA, I was proctoring the gigantic intro chem final. There were 400 people in the gym and hundreds more in various other places around campus. The gym was the designated place for students students in wheel chairs. This one adorable little freshman woman came in all shiny with yellow ribbons in her hair that matched yellow ribbons she'd tied on her spokes. She was super jazzed about having finished the year despite a horrific accident over winter break. She was grinning ear to ear and ready to shred that test.
ReplyDeleteUnfortunately, she didn't know jack shit and her hand was raised basically the entire three hours. Each time I declined to answer her question on the basis that her question was identical to the test question, she looked a little bit more like a puppy that had been offered a treat and then kicked in the face. The last time she asked me "I just want to know if these are the things like this" then drew something "or like this" then drew something else. The question was "How many electrons can fit in a d-subshell" and one choice was "two" and another was "ten". She drew a clover leaf shaped d-orbital, and five dashes representing the subshell. She insisted that she wasn't asking me to answer the question and that she was just asking me what the word meant. I insisted that the meaning of the word was the intention of the question.
Then she literally cried and never touched her pencil again for the remaining 28 minutes.
I swore that day to get an industry job and that I'd never teach. I should have listened to myself.