It’s already December. It doesn’t seem possible. On one hand, I’m not at all ready for what December brings: the holidays, the traveling, the end of the year. On the other hand, I’m ready for the end of this semester both at work and in my own classes. I’m tired. Just tired. It’s been an interesting semester getting back into classes myself. It took me a little longer than I expected to find a routine of reading and studying that works for me. I imagine each semester will require tweaking since I won’t know what I’m getting into with my online classes and teachers I’ve never met before. I know that I’ll probably need to work a little harder than I have been as my classes progress. There have been times like the last week or so where I’ve let things slide a little longer than I should have. I now have some making up to do with the end of the semester…a few assignments are due about the same time and I’ve not invested the time I should have on them. But I know that and I’ll bust my hump to get things done and if I don’t, I know it will be my own fault. Unlike some of the students I see daily where I work. What is with the trend of students feeling that they can negotiate class work and grades with instructors? I’m constantly amazed at students who cry to their teachers that tests are unfair or that they’re getting too much homework and can they please get extensions or extra credit or make ups. Or the students who come for tutoring two weeks before the end of the semester and have no idea what the name of the class or instructor is and wonder why they aren’t passing. Regularly I hear students whine about the amount of work or the difficulty of the material but when help is offered, they don’t have time for it because it will interfere with a personal activity. It would never have occurred to me as an undergraduate student to email my professor and tell him that the test he just gave was too hard and that I deserved extra credit work. Or admit that I had forgotten about it and request a retake. And I surely wouldn’t do it now as a grad student, regardless of working a full-time job and being a single parent with a house and other responsibilities. But I don’t think I was unusual even as an undergraduate in believing that my education was mine, personally. Something I was responsible for, not my teachers. If I didn’t study, or forgot an assignment, or even just plain found something difficult, it was my problem. And I took the poor grade and figured out how to do even better next time so my final grade didn’t suffer. Or looked for help if things didn’t make sense. And then felt a bit guilty when I walked into class knowing that I hadn’t been taking things seriously. When did the change occur? When did learning become a passive activity? It’s both frustrating and frightening to see that students today (generally–there are still some dedicated students out there) feel no sense of ownership in their education. Feel that small effort should pay big rewards. How did that happen? And where else does that actually work? Last time I checked, most work environments don’t offer re-dos and most bosses don’t give extra credit because you keep screwing up. Education is supposed to help prepare students for being productive members of the real world. The real world is mostly give and take. If you can’t give something, you’re not going to get something. It seems like an easy concept and one of the basics of being a student. Do your best to get the best grade. Do hardly anything, your grade will reflect that. No negotiating. Whine and complain to the mirror because chances are, that person is responsible. I’m tired myself. I have a lot left to do in my own semester, but I’m grateful to own my education as my responsibility. It means when I do well, I have myself to thank.
Tag Archives: education
September 2
Today was our faculty/staff development day at work. Or as my daughter put it, teacher punishment day. That seems to be the common consensus on a lot of campuses, college and secondary schools alike. I’ve had friends who teach in a variety of settings complain about their own development days. It seems ironic that educators dislike these days so much. Yet the idea of professional development isn’t the problem, it’s the issue that’s at the core of all student complaints: how am I ever going to use this information? Why do I need to know this? This isn’t in my area of interest, so why must I suffer through it?? Now, if you’re a regular reader of my blog, you know that I adhere to the philosophy of a well-rounded education. I think the more areas you’re introduced to, the broader your view becomes and the more curiosity has a place to roam. It’s also easier to see the connections between ideas and theories and disciplines. Yet, as we get older, it becomes trickier. During a day such as today, the “development” topics often seem irrelevant or overdone or pushed upon us and, therefore, condescending in some weird way. Since we’re forced to attend, we feel at the mercy of administration and their agenda (although there is supposed to be input from various committee members from across campus). And maybe there’s some truth in that. It is a way for administration to disseminate information to or gather feedback from hundreds of captive employees at once, without suffering the pains of sending out unread emails or flyers or phone calls, hoping for responses. Throw in economic restrictions on bringing in celebrity speakers, and on some level, I understand why the topics aren’t always engaging or exciting. Yet, I do believe that even in the workplace, there is still benefit to knowing how departments work both within their own particular confines and within the (in my case) campus as a whole. What our marketing, recruitment and admissions areas do drives enrollment, enrollment drives classes, and what and how faculty teach and interact with students keeps the process going, which makes all of our jobs possible.
Of course, I’m interested in people and communication and how things interact, so I have a natural curiosity about workplace dynamics. That being said, I also believe development days should foster growth in our own particular work as well. I wish some of our breakout sessions would involve conversations about our own personal areas of interest. Visiting scholars, perhaps. Faculty and staff from other colleges coming in for content discussions that could be joint-development days for multiple schools. Business leaders who could discuss the attributes they look for in the students we hope to graduate. Something that is inspiring and energizing as we enter another academic year. Therefore, I have to admit that today I was just as guilty as others of being a bit underzealous about being “developed.”
But there are some things for which I’m grateful. Our new president is easy to listen to and, I believe, is working hard for the college and all the employees. We have new programs that should be exciting and beneficial to our community. We have not only a Faculty of the Year award, but now also an Employee of the Year award, and the first recipient today was a guy who really deserved it. Having all employees together means being able to socialize with colleagues with whom it’s normally difficult. Our college still provides lunch (a box lunch consisting of sandwich and chips) but at least it’s from a good vendor. And it includes a cookie. I learned some new technology in one of my sessions. I got more information on a local business I was only vaguely aware of. Finally, putting together a day of activities for hundreds of reluctant people can’t be easy, yet the day always flows well and is organized. I am truly thankful for those who do it and the time and effort they put into it.
May 2
Today was a busy day. But it was good. We had hundreds of high school students on campus, and I was able to speak to several groups of them about how to study better. It was a little bit amusing, a little bit frustrating, and a whole lot of making me feel old. The groups I spoke to were all freshman. As I outlined how to take notes during class and techniques for test taking and study planning, I noticed how difficult it was for them to sit still and really pay attention. I kidded some of them about how teachers can actually see to the back of the room. Being 30 feet away isn’t considered hiding. And when you hit the kid next to you, it’s not a secret. (This did, in fact, happen.) Overall, though, they were good kids, and it was very obvious that they were just kids. And that’s when my mothering instincts kicked in. When I looked at all their young faces, I could see the potential in front of me, and I couldn’t help but wonder how many of them saw it in themselves. I wondered if they’d persist in school or get lured out of education by the promise of early dead-end jobs. The graduation rate in our district is low. I wondered how many of them would apply any of the tips I gave them during their high school years. I tried to stress the importance of figuring out how to be a student now, so that the upcoming years would be easier. I hope they heard me. I hope at least a few of them want to figure that out. When I look at kids that age, I wish there was a way to impart the knowledge that only maturity can give. And that’s when I feel old because I want to say to them, you’ll understand one day how important this is. And then you’ll wish you had listened better. But they may have. I hope so. After all, I’m thankful I’m in education where even during the difficult days, there’s the potential to help someone’s future.
melissagratitude 