"If you plug your ears, close your eyes and run away, you're gonna run into something!"
"I've got your monogamy right here!"
-Percy to Mary Shelley
"Lizzie: Don't tell me you partook of the fruit!
Laura: Well, not really..."
-Goblin Market interpretation
"Top Gun, the horrible Tom Cruise film,..."
-typical relative clausery
"Dr. Who's dealing with the plague and, you know, what are you gonna do?"
"Ever get a fishhook stuck in your skin? There are a number of ways to get it out, and none of them is a good way."
"You can demonstrate this 'pants around your ankles' thing at home."
"I believe in secular forms of redemption."
"Now I'm even more afraid of the dark than I was before!"
"I mean 'literally' in the literal sense of 'literally'."
-on people using 'literally' figuratively
"Don't you be lookin' at me!"
-on the oppressive 'gaze'
"Why would you care? It's intertextuality!"
-on plagiarism
"Whenever I've done anything illegal, that's how I feel."
-on adrenalin rushes
"You've heard of the 1960s British group?"
-on The Beatles
"It's like pushing someone off of a train just to do it....a moving train."
"That's too much fucking perspective!"
Monday, December 14, 2009
More Political Shenanigans
When I was in high school, I was embittered by a great many things. I was 17; sue me. One of those things seems to resurface as a consistent problem, I would assume because I have remained in academia. There were a number of honors students who had a 4.0 gpa, scholarships and got into excellent colleges. They were fucking idiots. Morons. I was stuck on a bus next to one such "I got a 94 on my history test! This sucks!" student who could not have prattled on about more inane bullshit if she tried. They knew how to memorize facts, statistics, dates and names. They knew how to master the standardized test circuit. They knew how to sponge information, regurgitate it on tests, then forget they ever "learned" it in the first place. They knew little else. This may be why my students can't write, can't forge a single argument, can't analyze a text. They can't think. They never learned how to think.
In graduate school, things are a little different. My fellow fellows are not morons. They're actually reasonably intelligent individuals...within a certain realm. Some of them are brilliant and have capacity far beyond said realm. Some pursue the land beyond Faulkner or Chaucer or whoever; some do not. Others don't even concern themselves with the land beyond and persecute those of us who do. I'm not saying I don't love what I do. I love reading and writing and exploring and analyzing, and I love teaching. I get a lot out of it. I get nothing, however, out of bullshit politics. The thing that those high school morons and grad school meganerds have in common is that they are essentially robots. They know how to play the system and little else. That is not to say that playing the system isn't smart. It's a great way of getting what you want, but at what cost?
I believe in balance and sanity. Being able to breathe, to step outside of the bullshit of life, to enjoy the subtle beauty that robots can't or won't see is more important to me than anything else. I don't want to bend over backwards or bleed out my eyes just to function. I don't want to spend a year on a syllabus to compete for a position that needn't be a competition, that doesn't even register as a blip on the screen of high stakes accomplishments--a position that every scholar should have the opportunity to experience. I am not denigrating those who contort themselves, but that's not me. Academia is a job for me. A career, if you will, that I love very much--the best job I've had, but it's not my whole life and I don't think it should be. If it were, I'd end up listening to nothing but opera and refusing to talk to anyone who doesn't know what "verisimilitude" or "hermeneutic" means.
For those who have their heads so far up the Foucauldian or Shakespearean or whoever rectum that they can't see the light of day: If that's for you, if you're happy, more power to you. But don't you dare imply that I don't give a shit, that I'm lazy or don't want to work just because I'd rather not sniff Foucault's shit. What if I suggested that living in a library and then excelling at academia is easy? What if I said that balancing a life, a real live life (and I don't mean 2.5 kids and a picket fence--that's more of a "package") and still excelling at academia is hard? That figuring out what to sacrifice, because handling EVERYTHING is impossible, and still getting A's isn't easy?
I'm not a robot. I don't play the system, and if that makes me a failure, so be it. I just wish that for one second those who create the system (and playing it is creating it, sustaining it) could stop being a rung in the ladder and see that it's just a ladder and there is no "there" there. Get off the goddamn ladder. There's a whole world out here.
In graduate school, things are a little different. My fellow fellows are not morons. They're actually reasonably intelligent individuals...within a certain realm. Some of them are brilliant and have capacity far beyond said realm. Some pursue the land beyond Faulkner or Chaucer or whoever; some do not. Others don't even concern themselves with the land beyond and persecute those of us who do. I'm not saying I don't love what I do. I love reading and writing and exploring and analyzing, and I love teaching. I get a lot out of it. I get nothing, however, out of bullshit politics. The thing that those high school morons and grad school meganerds have in common is that they are essentially robots. They know how to play the system and little else. That is not to say that playing the system isn't smart. It's a great way of getting what you want, but at what cost?
I believe in balance and sanity. Being able to breathe, to step outside of the bullshit of life, to enjoy the subtle beauty that robots can't or won't see is more important to me than anything else. I don't want to bend over backwards or bleed out my eyes just to function. I don't want to spend a year on a syllabus to compete for a position that needn't be a competition, that doesn't even register as a blip on the screen of high stakes accomplishments--a position that every scholar should have the opportunity to experience. I am not denigrating those who contort themselves, but that's not me. Academia is a job for me. A career, if you will, that I love very much--the best job I've had, but it's not my whole life and I don't think it should be. If it were, I'd end up listening to nothing but opera and refusing to talk to anyone who doesn't know what "verisimilitude" or "hermeneutic" means.
For those who have their heads so far up the Foucauldian or Shakespearean or whoever rectum that they can't see the light of day: If that's for you, if you're happy, more power to you. But don't you dare imply that I don't give a shit, that I'm lazy or don't want to work just because I'd rather not sniff Foucault's shit. What if I suggested that living in a library and then excelling at academia is easy? What if I said that balancing a life, a real live life (and I don't mean 2.5 kids and a picket fence--that's more of a "package") and still excelling at academia is hard? That figuring out what to sacrifice, because handling EVERYTHING is impossible, and still getting A's isn't easy?
I'm not a robot. I don't play the system, and if that makes me a failure, so be it. I just wish that for one second those who create the system (and playing it is creating it, sustaining it) could stop being a rung in the ladder and see that it's just a ladder and there is no "there" there. Get off the goddamn ladder. There's a whole world out here.
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Anxiety Post
So I have a paper due in 2 weeks. I often find myself in this situation. I have just begun doing research and realize now that things are more complicated than I had anticipated. Things usually are. Yet, I worry endlessly about said complications as if I cannot navigate and conquer them. I know I can. This is the 7th semester of this...and really, it's the 10th year of it. Nonetheless, what I know and what I feel are often incongruous (the antonym of the word of the day! Aaah!).
Allow me to digress. I was in my brother's backyard with him a while back. He found that the wooden foundation that he had built for his shed had gathered a cesspool and was warping. He figured it would be quite a task to empty everything from the shed, remove the shed and find a way to rid the foundation of the cesspool, not to mention find a way to prevent the foundation from gathering another. Instead of getting frustrated and bitching about the predicament (as I likely would have done), he simply set to work immediately to solve the problem. In fact, he didn't perceive it as a problem at all. He perceived it as a challenge, a mini-adventure on which to embark. Long story short, he found a much simpler way than expected to rid the foundation of its cesspool and keep it at bay. It took only a couple of hours if that, and he never wasted a minute worrying or complaining.
This is the difference between my brother and I. He never spends a moment contemplating whether he is worthy of a task. He just does it. It needs doing. It gets done. That is all. I am a thinker, a worrier, an anticipator. I expect; I assume; I cogitate. It reminds me of the four men wander-philosophizing in Waking Life who stumble across an old man on a telephone pole. He is all action and no thought. They are all thought and no action. That is not to say that my brother does not think. He just appropriates is time efficiently. He is not paralyzed by excessive cogitation. Sometimes I wish my brain had an off switch. Then maybe, I could breathe a little easier.
Allow me to digress. I was in my brother's backyard with him a while back. He found that the wooden foundation that he had built for his shed had gathered a cesspool and was warping. He figured it would be quite a task to empty everything from the shed, remove the shed and find a way to rid the foundation of the cesspool, not to mention find a way to prevent the foundation from gathering another. Instead of getting frustrated and bitching about the predicament (as I likely would have done), he simply set to work immediately to solve the problem. In fact, he didn't perceive it as a problem at all. He perceived it as a challenge, a mini-adventure on which to embark. Long story short, he found a much simpler way than expected to rid the foundation of its cesspool and keep it at bay. It took only a couple of hours if that, and he never wasted a minute worrying or complaining.
This is the difference between my brother and I. He never spends a moment contemplating whether he is worthy of a task. He just does it. It needs doing. It gets done. That is all. I am a thinker, a worrier, an anticipator. I expect; I assume; I cogitate. It reminds me of the four men wander-philosophizing in Waking Life who stumble across an old man on a telephone pole. He is all action and no thought. They are all thought and no action. That is not to say that my brother does not think. He just appropriates is time efficiently. He is not paralyzed by excessive cogitation. Sometimes I wish my brain had an off switch. Then maybe, I could breathe a little easier.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Administrative Shenanigans
Disclaimer: This tale is to be interpreted as a piece of fiction, not because it is, but because it would benefit the blogger immensely. Consider the narrator as narrator, not as author of this blog.
About a year ago, a new director of ___________ was hired to take over the position previously held by Dr., er, Snow. I rather liked Dr. Snow. She was a no-bullshit kind of lady, but she wasn't bitchy about it. In fact, she's the only professor in this department who ever asked me to take on a position outside of my regular duties, which may stand to benefit my CV. I'm not using the past tense because she's dead, thank god; she's just no longer heading up the program.
Anyway, the new director--let's call him Dr. Smeld--seemed harmless enough originally. He's young and seemed pretty laid back upon first impression. Unfortunately first impressions cannot always be trusted.
My first personal interaction with Dr. Smeld was via email. I had a student in an international class (the class from hell!--not due to its multicultural nature, but due to the tendency of many of the students to come from money) who wanted me to excuse 2 weeks worth of absences so his band could go on tour. When I told him that being a rockstar is not a legitimate excuse for absence from class, he wouldn't take no for an answer. After squabbling with him for days, I finally sent him to Dr. Smeld because I was always told that if I had a problematic student, the department would have my back and take care of it. Afterward I received an email from Dr. Smeld essentially saying that the next time I have a problematic student, I should try handling the problem myself rather than sending him down to the office. Understandably, I was incensed. How dare he assume I didn't even attempt to handle the problem myself before handing it off to someone else? Further, this was his first assumption, not rather that I attempted to handle the problem first. Strike one.
I am not usually one to hold a grudge, or to write people off immediately without giving second chances. Unfortunately, any interaction however little that I've had with Dr. Smeld has been less than pleasant. I think the nature of the problem is how he interacts with people. He seems to be a very nervous man. He holds a position of power but does not have the confidence to handle his authority with grace. He is passive-aggressive. He is not comfortable giving orders and often is not clear about what he wants; however, when one does not follow his not-really-ever-given-in-the-first-place orders, he takes issue with it. For instance, all Teaching Fellows were given packets to "look over" concerning imminent changes in the "direction" of the program. We chose new textbooks and were told to make syllabi for them. We were given no further instructions. At the orientation which occurs at the beginning of every semester, it appeared that we were to have followed the sample syllabus for each textbook given in the packets to a T. We were never explicitly told to do this. In fact, the sample syllabi were never even mentioned prior to this point. When I questioned Dr. Smeld about it, he told me to rewrite my syllabus with an air of confusion as to why I hadn't read his mind. This is the way he interacts with people. As far as I am concerned, it is not a particularly efficient way for a program director to interact with his underlings.
Though there are various other issues that I as well as others have with Dr. Smeld (his complete lack of a sense of humor, his obsession with theory over practice in the teaching of pedagogy), I see no need to detail them here. The point is that this blog may be the only outlet in which I may express my grievances. Of course I could bring them to Dr. Smeld directly, as others already have. I could raise these issues in discussion with other members of the department (in positions of authority). Unfortunately, I believe my concerns would, if not fall on deaf ears, at least be left unattended. This job is like any other in that way. Those in authoratative positions always say they are open to suggestion if underlings find that something isn't working, but that is just a front. Directors of programs, particularly young, relatively insecure directors of programs often think that they have found THE most efficient way of functioning. Suggesting otherwise not only risks bruising egos, but it also calls their positions into question. Not in reality. Just in their minds.
As far as I'm concerned, Dr. Smeld has nothing to prove. I think relaxing a bit would do him some good. I do not think that he is "wrong". I do not think he is unsuitable for his position. I do
think that he takes himself too seriously. If he chose to relax, it would solve a lot of problems. He would not be afraid of his position and may be more comfortable giving direct orders. He would not view the world around him so rigidly and may be more open to suggestions by others and to loosening up policy. It is always easier to work with people who respect each other, who respect themselves, and who are willing to laugh at this whole silly experiment we call life.
About a year ago, a new director of ___________ was hired to take over the position previously held by Dr., er, Snow. I rather liked Dr. Snow. She was a no-bullshit kind of lady, but she wasn't bitchy about it. In fact, she's the only professor in this department who ever asked me to take on a position outside of my regular duties, which may stand to benefit my CV. I'm not using the past tense because she's dead, thank god; she's just no longer heading up the program.
Anyway, the new director--let's call him Dr. Smeld--seemed harmless enough originally. He's young and seemed pretty laid back upon first impression. Unfortunately first impressions cannot always be trusted.
My first personal interaction with Dr. Smeld was via email. I had a student in an international class (the class from hell!--not due to its multicultural nature, but due to the tendency of many of the students to come from money) who wanted me to excuse 2 weeks worth of absences so his band could go on tour. When I told him that being a rockstar is not a legitimate excuse for absence from class, he wouldn't take no for an answer. After squabbling with him for days, I finally sent him to Dr. Smeld because I was always told that if I had a problematic student, the department would have my back and take care of it. Afterward I received an email from Dr. Smeld essentially saying that the next time I have a problematic student, I should try handling the problem myself rather than sending him down to the office. Understandably, I was incensed. How dare he assume I didn't even attempt to handle the problem myself before handing it off to someone else? Further, this was his first assumption, not rather that I attempted to handle the problem first. Strike one.
I am not usually one to hold a grudge, or to write people off immediately without giving second chances. Unfortunately, any interaction however little that I've had with Dr. Smeld has been less than pleasant. I think the nature of the problem is how he interacts with people. He seems to be a very nervous man. He holds a position of power but does not have the confidence to handle his authority with grace. He is passive-aggressive. He is not comfortable giving orders and often is not clear about what he wants; however, when one does not follow his not-really-ever-given-in-the-first-place orders, he takes issue with it. For instance, all Teaching Fellows were given packets to "look over" concerning imminent changes in the "direction" of the program. We chose new textbooks and were told to make syllabi for them. We were given no further instructions. At the orientation which occurs at the beginning of every semester, it appeared that we were to have followed the sample syllabus for each textbook given in the packets to a T. We were never explicitly told to do this. In fact, the sample syllabi were never even mentioned prior to this point. When I questioned Dr. Smeld about it, he told me to rewrite my syllabus with an air of confusion as to why I hadn't read his mind. This is the way he interacts with people. As far as I am concerned, it is not a particularly efficient way for a program director to interact with his underlings.
Though there are various other issues that I as well as others have with Dr. Smeld (his complete lack of a sense of humor, his obsession with theory over practice in the teaching of pedagogy), I see no need to detail them here. The point is that this blog may be the only outlet in which I may express my grievances. Of course I could bring them to Dr. Smeld directly, as others already have. I could raise these issues in discussion with other members of the department (in positions of authority). Unfortunately, I believe my concerns would, if not fall on deaf ears, at least be left unattended. This job is like any other in that way. Those in authoratative positions always say they are open to suggestion if underlings find that something isn't working, but that is just a front. Directors of programs, particularly young, relatively insecure directors of programs often think that they have found THE most efficient way of functioning. Suggesting otherwise not only risks bruising egos, but it also calls their positions into question. Not in reality. Just in their minds.
As far as I'm concerned, Dr. Smeld has nothing to prove. I think relaxing a bit would do him some good. I do not think that he is "wrong". I do not think he is unsuitable for his position. I do
think that he takes himself too seriously. If he chose to relax, it would solve a lot of problems. He would not be afraid of his position and may be more comfortable giving direct orders. He would not view the world around him so rigidly and may be more open to suggestions by others and to loosening up policy. It is always easier to work with people who respect each other, who respect themselves, and who are willing to laugh at this whole silly experiment we call life.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Happytime inspirational post!
The last two posts were, I admit, a tad cranky. Therefore, I have decided to post something a bit more positive. It feeds off of the themes of projection and blame found in the last two posts, but offers an uplifting outlook. It is from my most recent journal entry.
Upon pondering the indolence of my students:
It is impossible to live a truly enjoyable and fulfilling/gratifying/rewarding life without putting in any effort. We may experience the simple and temporary pleasures that material wealth can provide, but our lives will be limited if not down-right dissatisfying.
We are programmed in this culture to believe that what we experience is external. That things happen to us which we may blame on others, if negative, or attribute to luck, if positive. This attitude stifles growth. We are not able to learn from our missteps and adjust our behavior/outlook accordingly.
More importantly, we spend our lives waiting around for happiness to happen to us. Unfortunately when it does, it is often short-lived and quickly replaced with irritation, heartbreak or boredom. We are at the whim of every external breeze. We do not realize that what we get out of life and what we put into it are one and the same. The idea of working hard now for a later reward is bullshit. The hard work is the reward. Our lives are creations made up of perception and choice. If we are not willing to work hard for our dreams, then we don't deserve them...and wouldn't be able to appreciate them anyway.
The task is to find work that you love; then the work is the dream.
And secondly, this part is for Jeanette. Compiled from The Way of Aikido by George Leonard:
"I am the universe"...from a particular perspective, as is everyone/thing else.
On owning one's environment:
I am a co-owner of this world, as is everyone/thing else in it. I do not have 100% control as I must compromise with the other co-owners, but I control my part in it, and I have a voice.
Upon pondering the indolence of my students:
It is impossible to live a truly enjoyable and fulfilling/gratifying/rewarding life without putting in any effort. We may experience the simple and temporary pleasures that material wealth can provide, but our lives will be limited if not down-right dissatisfying.
We are programmed in this culture to believe that what we experience is external. That things happen to us which we may blame on others, if negative, or attribute to luck, if positive. This attitude stifles growth. We are not able to learn from our missteps and adjust our behavior/outlook accordingly.
More importantly, we spend our lives waiting around for happiness to happen to us. Unfortunately when it does, it is often short-lived and quickly replaced with irritation, heartbreak or boredom. We are at the whim of every external breeze. We do not realize that what we get out of life and what we put into it are one and the same. The idea of working hard now for a later reward is bullshit. The hard work is the reward. Our lives are creations made up of perception and choice. If we are not willing to work hard for our dreams, then we don't deserve them...and wouldn't be able to appreciate them anyway.
The task is to find work that you love; then the work is the dream.
And secondly, this part is for Jeanette. Compiled from The Way of Aikido by George Leonard:
"I am the universe"...from a particular perspective, as is everyone/thing else.
On owning one's environment:
I am a co-owner of this world, as is everyone/thing else in it. I do not have 100% control as I must compromise with the other co-owners, but I control my part in it, and I have a voice.
No, I will not wipe your ass for you...you're twenty!
This post is a response to a friend and colleague's misfortune in dealing with an asshole student. I know all about this. I have had my share of asshole students. When I first heard of this misfortune, I was incensed. It has been a few days now, so this blog will likely be less passionate, but more coherent than it would have been. This particular student was of the "Could you go ahead and wipe my ass for me? Thanks," variety. This student is synonymous with the "You're going to need to go ahead and give me a B (maybe even an A) for doing absolutely no work all semester; thanks," student. We teachers all experience these students from time to time. I had the misfortune of having half a classroom full of them one semester. This personality deficiency is obviously that of the spoiled child. I've always found "spoiled" to be a rather excellent term for this condition, for that is exactly what is being done to the child. It is a form of abuse. For instance, if you give a man a fish, you feed him for a day. If you teach a man to fish, you feed him for life. If you give a man an overabundance of fish, you completely incapacitate him and leave him dependent on the fishings of others. Plus, he develops such a fabulous and endearing personality to boot! ;)
My friend's student is one of the worst cases I've seen. Sure, I've had students who have blatantly told me that I clearly do not know what I'm doing, and that I should probably find another career. I had a student tell me that I don't give a shit about my students, and that she was baffled as to why I chose to teach in the first place. I've had many students who were absolutely flabbergasted that I had the nerve to say "no" to them. All of these instances were, as they usually are, due to unwanted, yet earned, shitty grades. But on all of these occasions, these students were confronting me. They were taking their complaints, their grievances, their whinings to me. This particular student didn't even have the balls to confront his teacher about his grievances. He went directly over her head to her supervisor, and ultimately the department, to file a formal complaint. Not only that, but he asked for her proverbial head on a platter...that she be fired.
It's one thing to be upset about a grade. Hell, it's one thing to get upset about a grade and blame the messenger...or anyone who can possibly be blamed that may prevent the need for that nasty and dreaded mirror-gaze. It's quite another thing to go directly over someone's head, without consulting her first, to her boss and ask that she be fired. Them's fightin' words! That's taking it beyond a defensive manuver into offensive territory. It's no longer just about the grade. It's about the person. Now that's some serious projection! And I don't care what anyone says, you just don't do something like that. That's not okay. Even if the teacher is incompetent (which is not the case here), you do not ask for that person's job. If he/she is truly incompetent, he/she will ultimately dig his/her own grave. No requests are necessary. And nothing good comes of such requests anyway...except maybe a nicely polished ego.
I have one thing to say to all of the "wipe my ass" students out there. Wipe your own damn ass! It's high time you learned how. Frankly, I am absolutely baffled as to how someone makes it through 18, 19, 20 some odd years of one's life without ever have heard the word "no". Without ever having had to wipe his/her own ass. The thing is, after having met enough of these people, I've come to realize that it's not that no one has ever told them "no", it's that it doesn't register. They don't hear "no" because it doesn't serve their agenda. They hear the Peanuts teacher's wa-wa nonsense-speak. The only time they hear actual English is when it's to say, "Sure, honey! Go ahead and bend over for me! There you go!" I've actually had students ignore my negation repeatedly until my head damn near exploded. They appeal their grades, they go over your head, and then they ask for it. Fortunately, if the department isn't corrupt, and I haven't experienced this one to be, at the end of all this ridiculous brouhaha, they still end up with that D they earned. (or that B if it also happens to be a student of the "I have to get an A or I'm gonna die" variety. A combination of these two varieties is quite a doozy)
To conclude, I also have something to say to the parents of said "wipe my ass" students. Ahem. YOU'RE NOT DOING A GOOD JOB! Money does not buy affection. Favors do not buy affection. Challenge your kids. Teach your kids to fish. And for the love of God, STOP WIPING THEIR ASSES FOR THEM!
P.S. This blog is dedicated to all those wonderful students who do their work without complaining, give a shit about their education and their lives and take responsibility for those lives. Thank you for making my job worth it.
My friend's student is one of the worst cases I've seen. Sure, I've had students who have blatantly told me that I clearly do not know what I'm doing, and that I should probably find another career. I had a student tell me that I don't give a shit about my students, and that she was baffled as to why I chose to teach in the first place. I've had many students who were absolutely flabbergasted that I had the nerve to say "no" to them. All of these instances were, as they usually are, due to unwanted, yet earned, shitty grades. But on all of these occasions, these students were confronting me. They were taking their complaints, their grievances, their whinings to me. This particular student didn't even have the balls to confront his teacher about his grievances. He went directly over her head to her supervisor, and ultimately the department, to file a formal complaint. Not only that, but he asked for her proverbial head on a platter...that she be fired.
It's one thing to be upset about a grade. Hell, it's one thing to get upset about a grade and blame the messenger...or anyone who can possibly be blamed that may prevent the need for that nasty and dreaded mirror-gaze. It's quite another thing to go directly over someone's head, without consulting her first, to her boss and ask that she be fired. Them's fightin' words! That's taking it beyond a defensive manuver into offensive territory. It's no longer just about the grade. It's about the person. Now that's some serious projection! And I don't care what anyone says, you just don't do something like that. That's not okay. Even if the teacher is incompetent (which is not the case here), you do not ask for that person's job. If he/she is truly incompetent, he/she will ultimately dig his/her own grave. No requests are necessary. And nothing good comes of such requests anyway...except maybe a nicely polished ego.
I have one thing to say to all of the "wipe my ass" students out there. Wipe your own damn ass! It's high time you learned how. Frankly, I am absolutely baffled as to how someone makes it through 18, 19, 20 some odd years of one's life without ever have heard the word "no". Without ever having had to wipe his/her own ass. The thing is, after having met enough of these people, I've come to realize that it's not that no one has ever told them "no", it's that it doesn't register. They don't hear "no" because it doesn't serve their agenda. They hear the Peanuts teacher's wa-wa nonsense-speak. The only time they hear actual English is when it's to say, "Sure, honey! Go ahead and bend over for me! There you go!" I've actually had students ignore my negation repeatedly until my head damn near exploded. They appeal their grades, they go over your head, and then they ask for it. Fortunately, if the department isn't corrupt, and I haven't experienced this one to be, at the end of all this ridiculous brouhaha, they still end up with that D they earned. (or that B if it also happens to be a student of the "I have to get an A or I'm gonna die" variety. A combination of these two varieties is quite a doozy)
To conclude, I also have something to say to the parents of said "wipe my ass" students. Ahem. YOU'RE NOT DOING A GOOD JOB! Money does not buy affection. Favors do not buy affection. Challenge your kids. Teach your kids to fish. And for the love of God, STOP WIPING THEIR ASSES FOR THEM!
P.S. This blog is dedicated to all those wonderful students who do their work without complaining, give a shit about their education and their lives and take responsibility for those lives. Thank you for making my job worth it.
Friday, September 18, 2009
Throwing the Woobie on the Fire
Though the title of my blogspot is intended to be facetious, this first post actually is one of serious subject matter. I didn't intend for it to work out that way; it just did. Hilarity will likely ensue in due time, but for now:
Disclaimer: Rest assured that no names or personal information of individuals mentioned in this blog will be given here. Also, if you are offended by my rantings, go read someone else's. Thank you.
I was 14 years old when I found out that my paternal grandfather was an alcoholic. I had never met him and knew little to nothing about him prior to this discovery. This may explain my father's aversion to alcohol. Anyway, this information had apparently made its way through the grapevine of extended family before it got to me. I was, I believe, understandably livid and somewhat embarrassed - not regarding his alcoholism, but rather because I seemed to be the last one to know.
Accusations had been made regarding my brother's integrity and I made some comment regarding the informer's alcoholic family history which I shouldn't have. You see, I believed, and still do, that the men in my immediate family are some of the best husbands and fathers I have ever encountered and am vigilant in defending their reputation, not that it is often challenged. I had never known alcoholism intimately growing up. The comment I made, however, though out of line and unnecessary, was nonetheless true. Though my memory is fuzzy as to what was actually said, it likely pertained to something of this nature:
People talk about alcoholism as a disease. Alcoholics, along this line of reasoning, are its victims. Alcoholics Anonymous suggests investing faith in a higher power and relinquishing a certain amount of control. While I believe that relinquishing control or understanding that much of what we experience in this world is not within our sphere of power as individuals is beneficial, relinquishing responsibility is not. Alcoholism is not a disease. Alcoholics are not victims. Alcoholism, like drug addiction, food addiction, World of Warcraft addiction, etc., is....an addiction! It is a choice. Just as we choose addiction over proverbial mirror-gazing, we can instead choose the latter. Saying that alcoholism is a disease, or that the fate of our lives is in God's hands, or that the death of a child resulting in his running into a street of oncoming traffic is a tragic accident rather than parental neglect, is a cop out. It is no one else's job to wipe our asses for us.
I am not saying that taking a long, hard look in that proverbial mirror is easy. I have, as an adult, known alcoholism intimately. I have loved those who, at one time or another, would rather have stuck a gun in their mouths and pulled the trigger than quit drinking. Throwing off our crutches, taking off the training wheels and throwing the woobie on the fire is never easy. It can be down-right terrifying. That does not mean, however, that it is impossible, that it is not within our power as individuals.
This issue extends far beyond the reach of alcoholism. Your kid did not die in a tragic accident. You weren't doing your job. If you are addicted to cheeseburgers, that is your choice. But if your eight-year-old is morbidly obese, that is child abuse. If you are planning to be sexually active, you better damn well know how to pronounce and define the word "contraceptive." I'm am not trying to be unduly punitive. I realize that perfection is a fantasy and that we all fuck up from time to time. I certainly have and do. I like to think, however, that I am not afraid of the looking-glass. Some people have never seen it and do not even know it exists. This rant is directed toward them. It is a cop out to think of oneself as "only human." Why do we not think of humanity as an achievement? as the soul's manifestation of excellence? We should be proud of our humanity, not of our ignorance. We have huge lumps of gray matter that we lug around in our skulls that are capable of amazing feats of brilliance, and yet most of us rarely use them. At what point will we accost that man, who may or may not actually have a miniscule penis, and say, "No! Parking your gargantuan truck in 4 spaces simultaneously is not acceptable!" It is time for us to take personal responsibility for our lives. It is time for us to recognize that it is of supreme benefit to ourselves and others to turn on our brains, wipe our own asses and get off the pot!
Disclaimer: Rest assured that no names or personal information of individuals mentioned in this blog will be given here. Also, if you are offended by my rantings, go read someone else's. Thank you.
I was 14 years old when I found out that my paternal grandfather was an alcoholic. I had never met him and knew little to nothing about him prior to this discovery. This may explain my father's aversion to alcohol. Anyway, this information had apparently made its way through the grapevine of extended family before it got to me. I was, I believe, understandably livid and somewhat embarrassed - not regarding his alcoholism, but rather because I seemed to be the last one to know.
Accusations had been made regarding my brother's integrity and I made some comment regarding the informer's alcoholic family history which I shouldn't have. You see, I believed, and still do, that the men in my immediate family are some of the best husbands and fathers I have ever encountered and am vigilant in defending their reputation, not that it is often challenged. I had never known alcoholism intimately growing up. The comment I made, however, though out of line and unnecessary, was nonetheless true. Though my memory is fuzzy as to what was actually said, it likely pertained to something of this nature:
People talk about alcoholism as a disease. Alcoholics, along this line of reasoning, are its victims. Alcoholics Anonymous suggests investing faith in a higher power and relinquishing a certain amount of control. While I believe that relinquishing control or understanding that much of what we experience in this world is not within our sphere of power as individuals is beneficial, relinquishing responsibility is not. Alcoholism is not a disease. Alcoholics are not victims. Alcoholism, like drug addiction, food addiction, World of Warcraft addiction, etc., is....an addiction! It is a choice. Just as we choose addiction over proverbial mirror-gazing, we can instead choose the latter. Saying that alcoholism is a disease, or that the fate of our lives is in God's hands, or that the death of a child resulting in his running into a street of oncoming traffic is a tragic accident rather than parental neglect, is a cop out. It is no one else's job to wipe our asses for us.
I am not saying that taking a long, hard look in that proverbial mirror is easy. I have, as an adult, known alcoholism intimately. I have loved those who, at one time or another, would rather have stuck a gun in their mouths and pulled the trigger than quit drinking. Throwing off our crutches, taking off the training wheels and throwing the woobie on the fire is never easy. It can be down-right terrifying. That does not mean, however, that it is impossible, that it is not within our power as individuals.
This issue extends far beyond the reach of alcoholism. Your kid did not die in a tragic accident. You weren't doing your job. If you are addicted to cheeseburgers, that is your choice. But if your eight-year-old is morbidly obese, that is child abuse. If you are planning to be sexually active, you better damn well know how to pronounce and define the word "contraceptive." I'm am not trying to be unduly punitive. I realize that perfection is a fantasy and that we all fuck up from time to time. I certainly have and do. I like to think, however, that I am not afraid of the looking-glass. Some people have never seen it and do not even know it exists. This rant is directed toward them. It is a cop out to think of oneself as "only human." Why do we not think of humanity as an achievement? as the soul's manifestation of excellence? We should be proud of our humanity, not of our ignorance. We have huge lumps of gray matter that we lug around in our skulls that are capable of amazing feats of brilliance, and yet most of us rarely use them. At what point will we accost that man, who may or may not actually have a miniscule penis, and say, "No! Parking your gargantuan truck in 4 spaces simultaneously is not acceptable!" It is time for us to take personal responsibility for our lives. It is time for us to recognize that it is of supreme benefit to ourselves and others to turn on our brains, wipe our own asses and get off the pot!
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