“I didn’t do well in the first part of this course sequence,” a student tells me. “I have no idea why I got such a low grade, though.”
“Who was your instructor in that course?” I ask.
“Oh, it was. . . erm. . . some woman, I guess?” the student wonders aloud. “Oh, I remember. I think it was some Latin chick. Or not?”
“Which chapters in the textbook did you cover?”
“Chapters? Erm. . . like. . . I don’t know. A few of them? I have no idea.”
“Did you attend the conversations hours?”
“The. . . what? I’m not sure.”
“Did you complete all of your lab work?”
“Was there lab work? I’m not sure I remember.”
“You missed the first week of this semester. Was there a reason for that?”
“Oh, I forgot when the semester was supposed to begin. I thought it was this week.”
Yes, it’s a complete mystery why this student didn’t do well in the course.
Good grief. Just. Good grief.
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It’s still early in the semester and I’m feeling energetic enough to see this as an exciting challenge. š
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I 100% guarantee you that when you asked about labs she thought about test tubes.
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PS my university’s semester did in fact begin this week. The student was so checked out she thought she was in Texas.
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I think you are right. There was this deer-in-the-headlights look of “Geez, is this the Spanish class I’m in or have I wandered into the wrong classroom by mistake?” š š
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GENERATION VEAL!!!
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Every time I hear one of these conversations, something ridiculous comes into my mind, like suggesting that they should remember to bring their labcoat to class next week so that they will be safe while learning to conjugate irregular verbs or something like that… just to mess with them further.
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Did the student actually say ‘some Latin chick’? Even the worst students don’t have the gall to use that term for a professor, while talking to a female professor.
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This is just the beginning of the semester and you’ve seen how I look. š It takes a while for me to start commandeering respect.
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