Concerning assignment deadlines Brooks writes, “In high
school and college, teachers stress no-negotiation due dates. If you don’t get
your paper or assignment in on time, your grade suffers. While this lesson
teaches responsibility, it isn’t as applicable to the working world. Deadlines
are important, but for the most part they are also flexible. In the
professional world, bosses generally prefer you take more time to create a
higher-quality product versus rushing to meet an arbitrary deadline.” Guess what?
I would prefer my students take more time to create a “quality product”
as well. In fact, I was quite amazed at the number of my ENGL 101 students who
on this past Monday hadn’t yet started their papers which are due Friday. I was
amazed to the point of being practically dumb struck again today-two days
later--at how many of them still hadn’t even chosen a general topic. I will not
name names. Suffice to say, you know who you are, and so do I, even if I don’t
call you out publicly on the fact or confront you about it in class. I do not understand this. Students say they
want to do well. They comment to their
peers that they are afraid of failing, and yet…a scant 48 hours before their draft
is due, some have yet to even look over the materials they were supposed to
have read to prepare to write the draft.
How do I know this, you ask?
Well, besides my prescient powers, I have the aid of the statistics
function on Blogger which tells me that 12, yes 12, yes ONLY 12 people have
viewed the sample writing piece (“Urban Musings, part 1”) I directed them to
read. That seems about right.
Experience tells me that about 15% of the papers I receive on Friday will
really be where they should be. And no, that’s not because of the stellar
example I provided. It’s because those
same 12 students have been working solidly all along. Reading, paying attention and taking notes in class, writing and
redrafting. Reading the posted example was just one of the many steps they’ve
taken toward crafting a solid paper and meeting the expected deadline.
Additionally, instructors have their own set of “arbitrary”
deadlines we have to meet as well.
Grades come due. Semesters end.
At some point we are all accountable to the constraints we have to work
within. In the ivory tower as well as
in the world outside of it. Instructors
rarely set deadlines that are as arbitrary as Brooks would have her readers
believe. All of the instructors I know
give a good deal of thought into structuring their classes. It takes a good deal of consideration and
planning when trying to figure out how you are going to set up a schedule that
gives your students time to produce quality work yet get through everything you
are supposed to in sixteen weeks, creates a manageable work load for them as
well as you, and meets deadlines imposed upon us.
She continues her line of argumentation against deadlines by
stating, “It is important to approach every project in a professional and
responsible manner and part of that is demonstrating respect for your boss’
timeline. However, if you know that you can produce a better piece with a little
extra time, that is something you should bring up.” This seems to contradict
what she says earlier about how deadlines in the real world are generally
flexible. This seems to say that if you
generally have shown a pattern of acting responsibly in completing work on
time, your boss or editor might grant you an extension if you talk to him or
her in advance about the difficulty you are having. I can’t speak for other instructors, but I know that in a similar
circumstance in my classroom, I’d try to work with the student as well. In fact, when we discuss logical fallacies,
deadlines are often the example I use to illustrate the slippery slope
fallacy. I ask students how many of
them have ever heard a teacher refuse to accept an assignment from a student
(none of them of course, but their friends or classmates) because it was late
and, the instructor says, if she accepts that student’s work, well then she’ll
have to accept late work from everyone.
Hands fly into the air. Nothing more than the old slippery slope logic
at work, I tell them. Most of us who
teach writing realize it isn’t an exact science. We work in a community where we understand what it takes for some
of our students to even show up each day is incredible. We know, mainly from
our own past experiences, that life often fails to follow the most intricately
laid out plans you have for it. There
are always exceptions to the rule, but they should be that. Exceptions.
And they should be warranted. I
don’t think it’s a matter of instructors being heartless or even unyielding so
much as what an instructor feels is a warrant for an extension and what a
student feels should be one are sometimes two drastically different things, and
like it or not, it’s the instructor who gets to decide if an extension is
warranted, not the student.
However, as Brooks admits, deadlines are there to teach
responsibility. Is teaching
responsibility really part of my job?
There certainly are days when I wish I could say no. I’m just there to teach content. My job would be so much easier if all I had
to do was teach content. My students’
lives would be so much easier if all they had to worry about was learning
content. I know that’s not true though. For either of us. Brooks oversimplifies the issue,
though. Instructors don’t generally set
deadlines for the purpose of teaching students responsibility. However, students often learn lessons
associated with responsibility as a result of them. In the coming days, some of my ENGL 101 students will be learning
those lessons. Some will learn (hopefully) not to put off drafting their papers
until the night before because they don’t like the experience of having to sit
all night in front of a computer instead of doing something more interesting on
a Thursday night, or they don’t like the feeling of panic they experience when
trying to locate an open lab to print their papers at the last minute because
someone used all the ink in their printer at home. Others will come in ten or
fifteen minutes late to class and learn that when I said the beginning of class
was when I collected assignments, that’s what I meant and their assignment is
late. A few may wake up suddenly in the
wee hours of Saturday morning, startled awake by the realization that they
forgot to submit their drafts to turnitin.com. Still more will learn a
completely different set of lessons.
They will learn that they could get themselves out of a corner they’d
backed themselves into. They’ll learn
that even 48 hours ago they sat in class complaining about how hard the
assignment was or how confused they were or (insert an appropriate internal
struggle here), they survived.
Better yet, they triumphed. They overcame. Still others will learn the
invaluable lesson that they belong here.
Many students already know they do.
Many, though, do not. There are likely to be doubters in both camps at
this point in the semester. That’s how
it works. Writing makes doubters of the
best of us—but just as assuredly it makes believers of us as well. Writing teaches us as much about ourselves
as it does the world around us. College is often that way, too, and we learn
more than we sign up for. Ironically,
so is the real world which Brooks would have you believe is so foreign to your
college experience.
Four Fired-Ohio Elections Chief Misses Deadline
350 New Jersey School board Members forced to Resign after Failing to Meet Background Check Deadline
County Circuit Clerk Ordered to Pay 9.5K to Reimburse Law Firm when She Fails to Meet Filing Deadline
No comments:
Post a Comment