Angry rambling--feel free to skim
Today was definitely my worst teaching experience EVER! TO DATE! SO FAR IN HISTORY!
Today's class is called Report Writing. It's midterm day in report writing, so I asked them to choose either:
1) An article they've found so far for their end-term research reports or
2) A significant event that is for some reason memorable
and to write about it in such a way that showed some planning, some consideration of what the important aspects were, some thought about how to organize the short essay, and some consideration of clarity.
The problem came when this angry sack of marshmallows asked what the point was. To report on an article or an event in an informative, clear way. But how is this a midterm? It's a writing class, so I can't give you a bubble sheet of multiple choice questions. But what's the point? Sometimes you'll have to write reports where you are the only source. Where you have to convey your own experience to a coworker or a boss or an employee or to a fellow academic. I don't get it. What don't you get? The point.
THIS WENT ON FOR LITERALLY 25 MINUTES. It was nine o'clock by the time we got started. The only thing that stopped her asking questions was a large man telling her to be quiet.
Later, during a break I spent photocopying pages for people who still haven't bought textbooks, I got jumped by the assistant dean, who told me three people had been in to complain about how they weren't writing reports, but were instead writing "Composition I" projects. Also, I am apparently "too disorganized." What does this mean? I guess it means that when I'm talking about a subject and somebody walks in and asks for homework they turned in late three weeks ago, I don't have it on hand in a special utility belt.
Later it turned out that the three students who complained were right--they haven't been writing reports. When I handed back papers, I didn't have any for them. All of their explanations: I emailed it to you. So I checked my email. Me: I don't think I got it--did I repsond? Sack of Marshmallows: No. You never did. Me: Maybe you sent it to the wrong address. Sack of Marshmallows: No, I sent it. You must have lost it.
It fell out of my computer as I carried it to the coffee shop!
Today's class is called Report Writing. It's midterm day in report writing, so I asked them to choose either:
1) An article they've found so far for their end-term research reports or
2) A significant event that is for some reason memorable
and to write about it in such a way that showed some planning, some consideration of what the important aspects were, some thought about how to organize the short essay, and some consideration of clarity.
The problem came when this angry sack of marshmallows asked what the point was. To report on an article or an event in an informative, clear way. But how is this a midterm? It's a writing class, so I can't give you a bubble sheet of multiple choice questions. But what's the point? Sometimes you'll have to write reports where you are the only source. Where you have to convey your own experience to a coworker or a boss or an employee or to a fellow academic. I don't get it. What don't you get? The point.
THIS WENT ON FOR LITERALLY 25 MINUTES. It was nine o'clock by the time we got started. The only thing that stopped her asking questions was a large man telling her to be quiet.
Later, during a break I spent photocopying pages for people who still haven't bought textbooks, I got jumped by the assistant dean, who told me three people had been in to complain about how they weren't writing reports, but were instead writing "Composition I" projects. Also, I am apparently "too disorganized." What does this mean? I guess it means that when I'm talking about a subject and somebody walks in and asks for homework they turned in late three weeks ago, I don't have it on hand in a special utility belt.
Later it turned out that the three students who complained were right--they haven't been writing reports. When I handed back papers, I didn't have any for them. All of their explanations: I emailed it to you. So I checked my email. Me: I don't think I got it--did I repsond? Sack of Marshmallows: No. You never did. Me: Maybe you sent it to the wrong address. Sack of Marshmallows: No, I sent it. You must have lost it.
It fell out of my computer as I carried it to the coffee shop!
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