Monday, October 25, 2010
I wish the snowflakes didn’t have to make their laziness so obvious. Every semester I get emails worded roughly as follows (if I strip away the bullshit and translate it): “Professor, please tell me the absolute minimum amount of work I need to do to get the highest possible grade in this course. Please tell me exactly what I need to do and think. Please give me exactly that information. Please tell me 100% exactly without requiring me to think critically or process information. I don’t really want to have to learn anything. I just want to vomit up pre-chewed information without having to work or think. That is what college is about, in my mind: doing the least amount of work possible while reaping the greatest possible reward. I don’t know why this surprises you, since my culture values instant gratification, pleasure, avoidance of work, and avoidance of responsibility above all else. Anything that interferes with my immediate happiness is wrong and I have a right to not do it.”
My greatest joy would be to tell students at the beginning of a semester, “Guess what, snowflake students of Vital Course 207? I am not showing you any of your grades this semester until 15 minutes before I send them to the Registrar. You will NEVER know how well you’re doing, and I hope the thought eats at your mind and causes you to lose sleep. I’m sorry it had to come to this, but this is the only way I can ensure that you actually TRY and CARE about doing well. Also, you’re being graded competitively and not on an absolute scale. Only 5% of you are getting an A, no matter how I calculate your grades.” And then I cackle madly, and my daydream ends. Well, back to wiping noses and coddling whaaadolescents.