Better Living Through Self-Assessment

Another semester has just wrapped up, with the usual giant, uncelebrated push to get everything done. It's the time for mutual assessment: I slap a number on each student's performance, and they fill out course evaluation sheets. It's a woefully unproductive system for pretty much everyone involved. But now that the final grades are in, I've had a moment to consider what advice I'd give these kids as they go forward in their academic lives.

Here's what my comment card would say:

... About School in General:

• There's a big difference between being the teacher's pet and being a grade-grubber. The former can be a really good thing, for the student's performance in the class and for the teacher's sanity--hey, at least there's one kid who cares about what's going on. The latter just pisses us off.
• It's so easy to be the positive kind of teacher's pet. Come to office hours--just once, even--and for God's sake, raise your hand when the professor asks a question. This lack of responsiveness from a classroom has never made any sense to me: why are you or your parents paying fifty thousand dollars a year, if you're not going to participate in your education? Why wouldn't you want to get credit for having an answer? (I've rarely known an instructor to subtract points for an incorrect guess; he's just happy someone spoke up at all.) Silence can be really demoralizing for the teacher, and detracts from the overall quality of the course.
  
• If you are going to complain about your grade on any given assignment, there are ways to do it that could actually score you points with your professor, rather than making you seem like a self-centered, entitled harpy. Above all, do not go in there with the expectation that your grade will get changed, unless it's attributable to a simple math error. Instead, ask for more detailed feedback about your submission, and for suggestions on how to improve your performance on the next assignment. Give your instructor advance notice that you'd like to meet with her, and bring the original copy with her comments. You'll have a much more productive conversation if you don't ambush her.
• Accusations of unfairness drive me absolutely insane. I'm sure there really are teachers out there with a grudge against particular students, but those are surely the exceptions. Especially with essays, I get a lot of complaints along the lines of "I stayed up all night writing this/I worked really hard/so I deserve an A!" I'm sorry, but at the college level, the "volume" of effort just doesn't factor into a submission's grade--at least, not as much as it does at the high school level. As college instructors, under most circumstances, we can only gauge the quality of the final product; high school teachers tend to reward effort more, since they're so refreshed to see any real engagement with the material, even if the conclusions aren't particularly insightful. Do I care that you worked on this paper for hours on end? Yes. Does that automatically mean I should boost your score? No--not unless it paid off with some thoughtful, well-argued writing. (Sometimes I ask these complainants if I should lower the grade of naturally talented writers who manage to dash off an excellent essay in half the time.)
• Read the feedback on your papers. Read the feedback on your papers. Read the feedback on your papers! If I see the same sorts of errors on all of your submissions over the course of a semester, your grade is never going to improve. It may, in fact, get worse.
  
• If you get an A-, just shut up about it.

... About Religion Classes in Particular:

• Unless you're attending an explicitly religious college or seminary, you may be asked to leave some of your faith-based assumptions at the door. That doesn't mean you have to stop being a believer inside the classroom, but you'll get a lot more out of the experience if you situate your arguments within the academic context of the course. Learning a new perspective on the material--even if it doesn't totally jive with what you're used to hearing in worship services--might just add more depth to your convictions. Yes, I know this assumes the endorsement of a multicultural, quasi-secular, critical thinking stance; but that's what liberal arts educations are for, by and large. If you don't like it, at least you'll be more familiar with what many non-believers are thinking.
• Some religion professors will be more than happy to let you use personal interpretations, experiences, and anecdotes as evidence in certain kinds of assignments; others will not. When in doubt, look closely at the course syllabus and essay prompts--and then ask the instructor. Always make it clear that they are your own beliefs, and recognize that they may not apply to everyone.
  
• Avoid sweeping statements about what "Christians think" or what "Buddhists believe." No one can possibly know what all persons belonging to a faith feel about any given topic, even if it's something that seems totally fundamental. People are just too varied and unique and contradictory. If you're going to offer generalizations, acknowledge them as such--and provide some sort of evidence or justification. The more nuance, the better.

... About Public Life:

• I joined Facebook back when it was still "The Facebook." It only had twelve schools. It had fewer than a million members. I know how to use it--and many of your instructors will, too. Don't put anything on there that you wouldn't want me to see. This seems rather basic, but I can't tell you how many students are caught asking for extensions when they've been "sick" [read: partying].
• Teachers and students are engaged in a professional relationship, and everyone's interactions should reflect that. Some instructors are chummier than others--I definitely go out of my way to appear approachable and empathetic--but any time I'm speaking with a student, I'm doing so in my occupational capacity. I've gotten the habit of using appropriate language in all non-personal correspondence, and I wish others would learn to do the same. That means proper capitalization, spelling out full words and sentences, and a limit of one exclamation point per statement. I do think there's a time and place for the occasional expletive; some students need to be shocked now and again, and it can go a long way to establishing a good rapport.
  

I don't really remember any of my college instructors giving this kind of guidance. And, if I'm being honest, I don't give it to my students either. Why don't we? Clearly we can't count on students knowing the best way to present themselves, but we bitch about how frustrating it is, regardless. I might mention one or two of these points if someone comes to see me in my office, but otherwise, I expect to be disappointed--and feel a little self-congratulatory when I'm proved right.

So, again, why don't I tell my students what I think they should do (or what they should avoid)? Part of it, I'm sure, is that I don't feel like an expert. My life is just as much of a mess, and just as self-defeating as any. Plus, I don't want to come off as a bitchy know-it-all. I spent too many of my middle school years with that reputation. Coupled with the fact that I'm only a few years older than most of my students, these factors do not contribute to my status as a wise sage for emulation. Yet, in actuality, I do wish some of them would model that insecurity, just a bit: looking back over my list of gripes, most of them stem from the strong sense of entitlement exhibited by many students. It's not that I want to quash confidence or self-reliance--quite the contrary--but maybe those qualities should be earned through a little humility.

Now I'm going to go to the gym, until I've earned that pint of Ben & Jerry's in the freezer. Coincidence?