Please excuse me.
I teach seniors and since it's the end of the school year, they are getting-- as my babies would say-- cray.
Take for example, my student (now known as Kid) who was on a Wednesday mission to make me blow up. It didn't work, but geez. The kid was thisclose.
Let me set the scene.
Setting- Computer lab
Me- Walking around helping seniors with multi-genre research papers.Kid- 18-year-old senior
The Situation- I just handed back a "final draft" that had been written in pencil on a crumpled piece of paper. I told the student to revise it so I could enter a better grade in the book.
Here is the conversation.
Kid: You gave me a D on this? WHY?
Me: Hey man, it's only your first draft! You've got to redo it. When you analyze something you've got to have more than two sentences, you know? Remember when we talked about deep reading and analytical writing?
Kid: I hate this class. (Types "I HATE YOUR CLASS" into the Google search box.)
Me: You know, we could spend this time revising your work together instead of doing silly things like that.
Kid: I don't revise work. We've been over this. My work is perfect the first time. (Under breath) You never help me. I hate your class. This is stupid. You give too much work.
Me: Remember when we read Anne Lamott's essay "Shitty First Drafts"? This is kind of what she was talking about. This piece of paper is just a starter.
Kid: (Mimic-y tone) I don't do revision. My work is perfect.
Me: (Sighs. Probably audibly) Okay, well, why don't you edit the work? See where you put "there" instead of "their"? You could fix that.
Kid: No. (Flatly) My draft is perfect. (Types "THIS SUX ITS TO MUCH WORK" into the Google search box.)
Me: Okayyyyy, well I'm going to go over there and work with some other students because this is going nowhere. Let me know when you want to workshop your writing.
Kid: (Under breath) I don't need your stupid help. You make me do too much thinking. You are dumb. I don't revise work. Duh. Ugh. I don't like you. You suck. This work is too much. blah. blah. blah.
Kid spent the next 40 minutes of class talking to a different kid next to him about how I was expecting too much work from people who are about the graduate from high school and typing things like "Ms H is dumb" into Google because he knew I would walk by and see the screen.
|What I was doing in my head during this whole situation.|
Hey Kid, you think you are gonna get through a college class with that 'tude? Well...
Listen Kid, I'm trying to help you. If I really sucked and never helped you, etc., etc., then I'd be all like this:
Okay Kid, perhaps you will (sadly) never use analysis skills to read the world. I'm at the very least trying to help you understand witty things like this:
Ya dig, Kid? Ya dig?
And my rant is over. I'm gonna go read so hard libraries tryin' fine me: