the id, the ego, & the single misfiring brain cell

I like to keep track of the totally awesome stuff my students unwittingly say in their papers. I usually list them on Facebook. Here are a few: 

Sentencing to death saves lives.

Idi Amin "did not encounter any major form of education."

Oskar Schindler fathered two unwed children.

The Viet Cong would hide among the populous [sic] and strike unexpected American soldiers.

(An opening sentence): On September 11, 2001 the greatest loss of American lives was recorded into our history books.

The draft should be ended because "beyond the physical injuries is the mental scaring war may cause."

The University of Florida "made a plethora amount of money off of Tebow."

With the help of parents, teenagers will be able to learn the dangers that alcohol can cause if abused irresponsibly.

And this surprise from an otherwise outstanding paper:

The Chinese government forced Feng Jianmei to abort her seven month old fetus.... Though the government did apologize for its actions, Ms. Feng will never be able to get back her baby which was almost fully grown.

One of my more extreme friends--who I've cut contact with because I don't know how to communicate with people whose thinking is so black and white--told me that I was making the Academy look bad by posting these jewels (my word, not his...obviously). 

Really?! The cadets are college students. They are rarely there for their writing skills. They are there because of a combination of factors which make them good candidates to become future Air Force leaders, and I'm lucky if I get a student who can write well. But it's my job to teach them how. If they came knowing how, my job would be unnecessary, now wouldn't it?

Does it make cadets look like idiots if I point out the occasional hilarious misuse of the English language? I think no. It makes them look human. 

So yeah. I'm annoyed that anyone would read my occasional (anonymous) student offerings and feel that I'm suggesting that the Air Force Academy is a failure and should be shut down. No seriously. That's what he told me. 

So I blocked him. Like I said, how do you begin to communicate with people who think like that? 

Anyhow. Here are a few tidbits from the last bit of the semester I got to teach this time...

One of my seniors, for a personal essay assignment, submitted a researched argument paper against abortion, complete with Facebook photos. The essay was supposed to be about some personal conflict or moral dilemma that person had encountered and their analysis of it. I read the first couple of pages, skimmed the rest--enough to know that it didn't ever come close to being a personal essay--gagged a little at the pictures at the end, then wrote on her paper, "Did you even read the assignment, Anne?"*

* Name changed. Of course. 

I gave her a 60 for at least hitting the ball, even if it was in the wrong direction, then sent her an email as soon as I was back at my computer (the next day). I said something like, "Anne, you don't seem to have read the assignment at all--either that, or your abortion teacher is wondering why you sent her a personal essay. Please see me ASAP."

Anne was to give a presentation in four days using the material of her paper, so there was a double-whammy lined up if she didn't fix it. She wrote back that abortion was her personal conflict, and went on about how persecuted she is. 

So I sent a completely sanitized version of her paper to the course director. I asked him what grade he'd give it and why. He responded that it was an F--maybe a D--paper, and it was the sort of paper his freshmen might write. I forwarded his comments to Anne and again pleaded with her to make her presentation personal, as per the assignment, and to see me if she still didn't understand. She didn't see me. I just hoped we'd made a dent. 

That Friday, she gave her presentation. She told a story about how her roommate had had a pregnancy scare and she (Anne) had helped her out of it, and had been morally conflicted ever since. It was intense and moving and spot on. I took the paper she'd used for the presentation and regraded it. She made a 90. 

***

On maybe the fourth day of class, one of my cadets had trouble accessing his official mail to get a worksheet the rest of my cadets were working on (on their laptops, of course). He asked someone to email it to his personal account, which was [email protected]. One classmate got his information and tried only to discover he couldn't send because his inbox was full.

A second helpful cadet said, "I got it. It goes to JohnnyLovesMales, right?"

***

Cadet: My thesis is that welfare recipients should have to undergo drug testing.

Me: OK. Cool. So you're in favor of paying more for welfare, then? 

Cadet: What?! No! Less!

Me: Any idea how much drug testing costs? 

Cadet: I'll look into it. 

His paper, as it turns out, argued that welfare recipients should not be drug tested because it's too expensive. (And it was an excellent, thoughtful, balanced paper.)

***

I saved the best story for last. 

One of my students--let's call him Wilson--wanted to write about how Affirmative Action was unfair discrimination against white people. I politely mentioned to him that I'd read many arguments like that before, and the weird thing about it was that they were all written by upper middle class white guys. He insisted that he wanted to make the argument. I said OK and suggested that he--like everyone else--proceed with his preliminary research and submit an outline of his argument paper.*

* Yes. I teach students how to do outlines and why they must, and I require them to submit their outlines for a grade. The students hate it. I call it "growing pains." And you know what? A surprising number of students come to me afterward and tell me that they hated doing the outline, but once they had, they understood how to make a clear argument and stay on target. It's painful for all of us, but it must be done--kinda like Marine boot camp.

Anyhow. Wilson's outline reeked of white privilege, to put it nicely. To be fair, he chose a difficult subject. And in the interest of full disclosure, I've never decided how I feel about the issue, so I don't have a "side." I provided feedback to Wilson culminating in the strong suggestion that he see me for EI* ASAP. 

* Extra Instruction. In my office. Now. 

He came in. I pointed out the apparent racism in his approach. I said I couldn't know if he was racist--I certainly had no reason to think so--but an argument's effectiveness has a lot to do with how it is perceived by those who have the power to change the situation, and it's damned difficult for an middle-class white guy to make an argument that Affirmative Action should be overturned without coming across as, well, racist. 

He started going through his arguments. About the point that he argued that Black History Month needed to be discontinued, I asked him if he'd studied African American history. He said, "Sure. You know...the Civil War." 

I said, "No. That's American History. What do you know about African American history?"

He looked confused. I said, "Be advised that you are making your argument to a person who has studied African American history and knows more about it than most black people in America today. What you have studied is white history. You know practically nothing about African American history--and it is extensive." I highly recommended that he do some research on African American history if he wanted to make the argument he wanted to make. 

He kept pushing back, though. I finally told him to go back and research some more, and to consider how he'd react to the argument if his skin were black. We both knew we hadn't come to an understanding, but I knew he desperately needed more information to make his case. 

The next day, I was grading at home and got an email from him. He told me he felt as though we were arguing more than refining his paper, and he wanted to talk with someone else in the English department, and he hoped this wouldn't affect his grade. I wrote back that I not only didn't mind, but I highly encouraged it. 

The next time I saw him in class, I brought it up because I felt that everyone could learn from it. I applauded his initiative in seeking out other instruction. The whole point was to communicate certain ideas to students, and if the primary instructor fails, the student should certainly talk with other members of the faculty who may be more successful in communicating the idea. (And if the primary teacher has a problem with this, we have a chain of command whereby the student may seek justice.) I asked him who he'd talked to. Turns out, it was the course director. I asked because we have a couple of African American instructors--seasoned instructors, no less--he could have approached and I was curious if he'd gone to one of them. The course director is as white as I am. Maybe whiter. 

I popped by her office when I got a moment the next day. She said she and Wilson had spoken extensively about his thesis and his arguments, as well. They had refined the thesis a bit in the end. She also wasn't sure how it would turn out. 

About three days after I collected the essays, Wilson came by my office. He wanted to know if I'd had a chance to take a look at his essay. I said no, but I was certainly looking forward to it (no kidding. I was most curious by this point). 

Well. I was having a bad day grading. I admit it. I'd triaged my papers, starting with the lowest average grades and working toward the highest average grades. This method has certain advantages. You grade the worst papers, generally, when you are freshest and most patient. You also know the quickest which students will require further, shall we say, administrivia. You also instantly spot papers that are egregiously different from the usual fare for any given student. 

Anyhow. I read his paper and was compelled to email him, particularly because I knew he was concerned about it. I said something along these lines: 

"Wilson, 

I was having a bad morning, grading papers. Then I read yours. It is outstanding. Seriously...you took a subject that is so difficult that I was prepared to give some leeway and you addressed it well and with objectivity. I just thought you should know--my hat is off to you. Well done. Have a great summer!"

Seriously. This young man was required to provide six references.* In addition to making his argument race-free, he gave me two pages of good sources. 

* But I tell them that that's a minimum. You're really being graded on how many sources you need to make your argument well. 

It wasn't all me. My course director clearly had a lot of input, too. But I share the victory--and a victory it is. 

This young man will make an excellent officer. 

d