A question of priorities...

I like to think of myself as good natured. Easy going. And above all, tolerant. I used to think I was patient, too, but lately, my patience has been put to the test.

At some point this semester, I came to the realization that the students are getting bolder. Not smarter. That would be too much to ask. But they're certainly not afraid to press the limits of what their professors will and won't put up with.

Case in point. I received an email today from a student. He wanted to know if he could email an assignment to me. This is a common request, and one that usually gets an unequivocable "yes" answer. But the logistics of this particular assignment made it very hard to accept via email, and I asked him to bring a hard copy to class. I was even willing to overlook the fact that he blatantly ignored the big bold line in the assignment instructions that said "This assignment will NOT be accepted via email."

Before I emailed him back, I decided to look him up in the gradebook. I do this often, as I like to be able to pre-emptively address any issues that could come up. But in this case, the student's name was vaguely familiar to me. When I looked at the roster, I realized why. While there were grades for all the "emailable" assignments, there was a conspicuous line of zeros in anything that was administered as an in-class only or participation grade. Flipping through the folder of papers to be handed back, all of those emailable assignments AND the student's midterm grade results were in the stack of papers that had yet to be picked up.

In short, this student was a Visitor.

In my email response I told the student that he would need to bring a hard copy to class, and that I actually wanted to talk to him about his grade. The email was polite and short, and sent without much hope that I would see either this student in class OR a hard copy of his assignment.

Sure enough, I got an email back. But while I was expecting a fumbling excuse and an attached file, I wasn't ready for what was ACTUALLY in the email. Apparently this student, concerned about MY concerns with his grade, checked his own scores online and discovered that not only had he missed six in-class assignments, his chance of earning anything higher than a D for his final grade was a near-statistical impossiblity.

The email stated--in a manner that was decidedly less than polite--that he didn't think it was fair that I penalize him for not coming to class. He then demanded that I allow him to make up the six missed assignments. Not asked. Demanded.

He went on to explain that he worked most days at 3:00 p.m. Granted the job was part time, but he liked to have the extra spending money to pay for his car. Apparently his boss is even more unfair than me, as he expects his employees to show up on time for work and not leave early. I can respect this. In fact, this boss and I would likely be fast friends (see my previous blog).

I know that many of my students work. And whether its out of necessity or by choice, I'm willing to make the occassional exception when someone's work schedule unexpectedly changes. Real life can get tricky, and normally when students come to me with these types of issues, I'm sympathetic. However, by this student's own admission, he took this job and chose his schedule after enrolling for my class, and therefore after learning of the nature of my course and its collection of Draconian policies. Never mind that on the first day I explained my attendance policy. Never mind that I described the class as one that is primarily lecture-based. And never mind that on day one, I explained that in-class assignments would happen, would not always be announced, and could not be made up without a viable, documented excuse.

Oh yeah. He also took this job knowing that my class starts at 3:30.

Had he provided proper documentation of his job and let me know in advance of his work conflict? No worries. Had he asked nicely? I still would have considered it. But demanding that I break my well-established rules because he's not responsible enough to balance his own schedules?

Not gonna happen.

I don't know when it happened. Somewhere along the line, something happened to these students. Not all of them, mind you. I do have many that are bright, consciencious, and able to balance the rigors of work and family and school and, you know, successfully read a clock and a time schedule. But the boldness--the sheer audacity of some of these students--never ceases to boggle the mind.