It is nearing the end of another semester, and once again, the
expressions of frustration are pouring forth from instructors and students
alike. Many students feel overwhelmed and lost as they prepare for exams over
material they claim was never covered and finalize papers whose parameters
often remain a mystery. Teachers try to hold in painful sighs as they repeat
information for tenth time this week for this one class, and bite their
collective tongues at the students who are just now realizing they have zeroes
on some assignments or have suddenly become privy to the attendance policy.
Sometimes I want to shout, “Where were you when I covered all
this information? What were you doing while the whole class was doing research
on this? What were you listening to while I darn near begged students to see me
during my office hour or go to the Writing Center for help?
I know when people miss a lot of classes, I can point to
lack of participation as a reason for poor grades and an absence of learning.
But so many students are physically present, but not really “there.”
So I propose to answer some of these questions in the hopes that
if you are student who seems to be missing something, you can learn to “Be here
now,” as one of my own professors cautioned me. And if you are a teacher, you
probably won’t feel better, but at least you will know what to watch out for.
Where
were you when the teacher covered that in class?
- Texting
your friends.
- Checking
your Facebook
- Chatting
with your neighbor.
Where
were you went the instructor offered to answer questions about the assignment
or explained the assignment for the third time?
- Asking
the guy next to you for clarification. You know, that dude who barely speaks or
understands English, but has a nice smile?
- Talking to that woman who seems smart because
she always remembers her book, but is lost in her own problems?
- Grinning
at some YouTube video on your laptop.
Where
were you when the rest of the class was completing an in-class assignment?
- Checking
Wikipedia for some information on the subject.
- Making
an outline of the paper you should have completed a week ago.
- Checking
your grades for another class.
Where
were you when the teacher set aside class time to do research in the library?
- Studying
for a test in your next class by staring at random pictures in the textbook.
- Playing
Candy Crush as you wait for an opportunity to sign the roll sheet.
- Driving
your car to Taco Bell convinced today was a “free period.”
Where
were you when the professor was explaining how your final grade is figured or
when he was giving the class information about the Final Exam?
- Packing
your bags to leave.
- Wondering
what this guy is talking about and why he thinks it is so important. (It is a
particularly bad sign if you are wondering who this guy is.)
- Checking
your notebook or folder to see if it is too late to drop the course.
Where
were you just before you asked the instructor about extra credit?
- Noting
for the first time this semester that you have seven zeroes in the grade book.
- Posting
a Facebook status about your unfair teacher.
- Listening
to other classmates talk about excuses they used to get extensions on
assignments.
- Trying
to remember whether your grandmother has already “died” this semester.
- Searching
RateMyProfessor.com for “better” instructors to take in the fall.
Certainly the above does not
represent all undergraduates. Some weak students make an effort to figure out
what is going on, and plenty of good students lose their way now and then. And
I know there are teachers who operate under the “I said it; therefore I taught
it” pedagogy, and so they have no idea what actually “works” in a classroom,
and thus short change the whole system. But every semester, I find more
students walk onto campus already tuned out, blaming the subject matter for being
boring (instead of their vapid lives), and expecting teachers to entertain them
(or at least tolerate their raging apathy).
The problem isn’t all about the
students either. The actions and attitudes noted above indicate a growing trend
of nearly militant ignorance. Many of our college students have failed
themselves, but have also been failed by their parents, teachers, administrators,
friends, and politicians who know nothing about education, but seem perfectly
willing to make up rules about it while stripping funding from everything
except football and stealing power from all who can make education in this
country the envy of the world again. But the past, no matter how recent, is no
excuse.
Students need to imagine the
actual piece of paper we call a diploma. The name they see will not belong to
all the people who had a role, for good or ill, in the education that paper is
supposed to represent. And that education, if it is to be worth something,
needs to start with students doing more than getting marked “present.”