Despite all that you usually read on an academic blogs I like my students, most of the time. The one thing that I can not stand, the one time that I bite my tongue so much that I draw blood is when students proselytize to me. Sometimes this happens in class, usually outside of class. I run a very de-centered class; I encourage students to question the world around them and their own beliefs. And I do this through modeling, I set myself and my views right out in front, I critically confront those beliefs and invite students to do the same thing. I encourage students to ask me questions about my political ideologies, and they do, some are personal (does your husband care that you are a feminist?) some are more general, like “Can a feminist be married? Wear lipstick? Shave her legs?” I don’t mind these questions, I actually like them. So maybe it is this openness that prompts students to ask me if I have been saved, if I have accepted Christ in my life or any other number of questions which mean the same thing. And it wears on me more then any excuse about dead grandmothers. I think I find this so irritating because I find any sort of fundamental religion problematic. And while I believe that people should be able to worship their higher power in any way they would like, as long as it is not in my living room, that they are free to allow that religion to guide their lives and even the way that they vote, I am also very adamant that their religious beliefs should not become the laws by which I live. I guess that is why students who try to save me just end up pissing me off. These are the same students who write papers and quote the Bible, using God as the author in MLA parenthetical citation. When I point out the problem with this I am often prey to a theological discussion about how the Bible was written, which I certainly don’t need. And these are the same students who don’t understand why a religious argument about morality and say homosexuality won’t appeal to a large audience. Why they ask? Well because not everyone believes in the Bible, or Jesus. This is when I get a shocked look from said student, as if they had never considered the idea that someone, anyone might not be of their religious persuasion, which I find highly unlikely in this day and age, but there you go.

I am never quite sure what to say to these students, I don’t want to be horribly mean, after all they are entitled to whatever religious ideology that they hold. I usually say that I have a religion that I am happy with, I leave out the information that I doubt lapsed Catholic is a religion. And I leave it at that, which usually works, but that doesn’t stop the classroom interruptions. This is from last week as the class was generally discussing their paper topics:
Student: “I think that society is falling apart because people are not moral.”
Student B: “Well, whose morality are you talking about? Who gets to decide?”
Student A: “Jesus.”
The class is torn between rolling their eyes and nodding in agreement. I now know how Bush got elected.

Well I just got an email from the angel in charge of disability concerns to let me know that Oscar took his exam yesterday, less than 24 hours after the original exam was given to the class. Pseudored is very happy that this has been taken care of a) before spring break, and b) with little trouble and extra work for me! I email Lead Teacher to let him know we’re good, another blissful response: “You know you can take points off for having that extra day, he may have gotten a heads up from friends. Don’t go too far for this guy, it’s not like he’s really disabled.” I think I sat with my mouth open for about five minutes. So a temporary disability should not be dealt with accordingly? Maybe I am just so used to having students give me bunk excuses and then hem and haw around finishing assignments. To have one with an actual excuse, and who, battered as he is, takes initiative to make sure that the work gets done in a very timely matter is a joy. Or maybe my standards are too low. Now I am off to meet with an administrator who wants to know why I think and agreed to possibly giving a student an incomplete who, this week, had her baby TWO MONTHS early, and called me from her hospital room. ARRRGGGG!!!!!!

After a pretty lively discussion in my Monday pseudo-evening small group breakout session, I let the students go five minutes early. As students file out, a young male we will call Oscar slips in. Oscar is in this class, although he just showed up tonight and, how do I say this, Oscar did not look good. He has a pretty nice shiner and a gouge above the eye. His right arm is in a cast and a sling. His hands look like they went through a meat grinder, I have a pretty good idea what happened, but ask politely anyway.
Oscar: “I crashed my bike.”
Ten points for pseudored. He explains what happened; I have new respect for his intelligence. He was wearing a helmet; the visor cracked and broke, which explains the black eye and eyebrow gash. Foolishly, his words, he had taken off his gloves, which is why is hands were beat to hell, but was wearing the correct protective clothing which is why the rest of his body is unharmed. His arm is broken, his shoulder dislocated.
But the problem we wanted to discuss was the difficultly he foresaw in attempting to take the essay exam on Wed. as he is, like a majority of us, right handed. He could probably type it, although he could only use one hand.
This is not the biggest or most annoying of problems, I happen, as it were, to have the email of the disability concerns lady who is, as it turns out, an angel. I give said address to him with a promise that I will contact her that night and send along a copy of the exam. He could take it there and they would give him a lovely person who will write or type his dictation. With much thanks Oscar leaves happy if battered.
That evening I send an email to Lead Teacher to let him know what’s up, and assure him that I have made arrangements. The reply, “Does the student have documentation?” Um, his face? I know that some students make up excuses and manufacture problems, but this one would be a bit difficult to create. A sling maybe you could buy, but a cast? I was amused actually with thoughts of Oscar with his roommate, standing in the middle of campus, Oscar begging roommate to smack him around, help him get an extra study day. I know that students often have grandparents die en masse, migraines and dentist appointments, but I say physical proof of trauma trumps a doctors note every time, and I also think Lead Teachers too many years have made him as paranoid as a CIA informant.

Pay attention, I am about to make a surprising announcement. Our students? They’re not all stupid. I know that this assertion will come, to some, as no surprise; others are rolling their eyes at me and poising their fingers to fire off a response, probably accompanied by a tale or two of students who were, in fact, stupid. Calm down, I know we all have those stories, but I would like to remind you that I said not all students are stupid, some are. Some are so frustratingly and mind-numbingly dumb that we can only throw our hands up in the air and hope that they can somehow make their way in life. As for the others, well it is my contention that a vast majority of them are self-centered, egotistical post-adolescents. They are mostly 18-20, unsophisticated and unaware of the rest of the world. How is this a big fucking surprise? Wow 18 year old kids, who have lived their lives in their parent’s house, usually cloistered in the same town, economic class and school, whose lives for the past five years have revolved around their grades are self-centered and unsophisticated? Knock me over with a feather.

I am forced to think back to my own 18 year old self. Shipped off to school 200 miles away, I had never ventured outside of the town that I lived in, I went to Catholic school, and while my parents were hippie type semi-intellectuals, they were still working class. I had never eaten Chinese food, I had never met someone who was not Christian, I had never really known rich kids. But I was opened minded and hungry for information. One of my first friends there was Jewish, she invited me over for holidays and celebrations, she made kugal and matzo balls to break the fast of Yom Kippor. She patiently answered all of my questions about Judaism, gave me books to read and took me to temple. I had professors who opened new worlds to me, gave me more books, sent me to art exhibits and plays. Slowly but surely I became less self-centered, more sophisticated and I thank all of the people who helped me do so. I remember these things when I hear other faculty complain about students and I think, yes they are frustrating, but isn’t college where students learn the lessons that help them out of this mold.

Will all students take the opportunity to expand their world? Of course not, but some will, and instead of assuming their failures, I would like to encourage their learning. I must admit that, frankly, I am flabbergasted by the resistance so many faculty have to actually teaching. Silly me, I thought that was our job. I can not count how many times I have heard professors lament that students don’t get it. And yet there is an all compassing reluctance to actually teach students what you think they should get. It’s in the material right? They should read it, yeah cause that always works. And forget actually encouraging questions, good pedagogy obviously means mocking and destroying students who ask speak out in class, and then blame their lack of participation on not studying. I guess this rant comes too close to break when I am so frustrated by the mechanisms of ideology that restrict students and defeat faculty. But I will continue to try to teach students, I owe that to the people who taught me.

Am I offended or complimented?

I have often been accused of over thinking things, I have no idea if that is because I sacrificed my 20’s to the Gods of academia, reading too much theory and becoming, somehow, the feminist. You know the person, the one who might have always had the tendency toward feminist ideology, and somehow through coupling their literary work with gender they have become the feminist grad student, then the feminist prof. in residence. Yes my friends know that if they need some obscure essay from Irigary I will more than likely have it, but that also somehow makes me, to many, the Emily Post of feminism, too often people look at me as if to say, is this offensive? One person opened the door for me while I carried a large stack of papers into the building and then apologized if I found this sexist. I usually ignore this crap, I really don’t have the time or energy to be the PC police. But then there are times that I honestly don’t know how to feel, like when I get out of tickets through feminine charm. I am always happy not to have the ticket, I don’t want to pay it or sit through some stupid class, but I also always feel a bit sad at how I have escaped. Have those episodes set back the women’s movement? This is my current dilemma.

I was to be the instructor to lead discussion on a video tape in my team taught large group meeting. I had the video, prepared my lecture, and emailed the defacto head teacher about the audiovisual equipment. It was in his office, should I come get it before class? He replied promptly that he and the other male prof would bring the equipment over. This alone did not bother me, they are the full-times, their offices are right next to each other and the other instructor and I are both adjuncts, no office and come right to the class from our cars. So I show up early, chat with a few students and the other female adjunct arrives and asks about the equipment, oh I say vaguely, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are bringing it over. She stops, looks at me a moment and says really? They never bring equipment for me, they always make me come get it and lug it across campus. I force a laugh and tell her that they probably feel bad for the newbie, but we both know what is going on. She is a 50-ish woman, unremarkable in appearance and charisma. I am 30, wear clothes closer to my students then my colleagues have highlighted hair and good makeup. Some students develop crushes on me, ask me out occasionally (which is when I make my left had and the rings on it very visible), and last but not least, I have a figure that is more Marilyn Monroe then Andrea Dwarkin. My chest is the joke of many of my friends, who nicknamed them the girls and joke that even my tailored suit looks, on me, like it could have Velcro on the sides to aid in my striptease. I am friendly and charming, students like me and they like my class. As I write this I am acutely aware that someone, somewhere is channeling my grandmother who would comment that I should be careful not to get too big for my britches, but as I am anonymous and I would like to write realistically about this, I am not toning down for anyone.

I am not sure how I feel about this; I am somewhere between offended, speechless and amazed at the power that my femininity holds. Which one am I leaning toward more? I have no idea, but I am amazed at the way in which even thoroughly self-critical academics fall into socially construction gender ideology. Now there are many reasons that I should not be carrying audio visual equipment five feet, much less across campus. Let’s just say that while I may be cute I am not graceful. But does the very real fact that I probably would have broken the damn things have anything to do with the fact that the male professors decided to lug the heavy bags? My colleague smiled, she said “well, enjoy it while it lasts.” Unfortunately for me and the rest of the world I think that she is right. And I am left to ponder how my theoretical life can work within the real world.