Wednesday, May 11, 2005
Great Moments in Teaching
No. 1: The Multiculturalist
My students took their final exam today and are deluging me with emails because they don't have the grades they want. I am, in turn, determinedly not wringing their necks. In celebration of this fact, I offer you a Great Moment in Teaching from my past.
Not long after the start of my first semester teaching, a student approached me after lecture. [The way this class was set up, there was a lecturer who spoke twice a week to three hundred students, said students then being broken up into about fifteen smaller groups that met with me and other TAs.] She explained to me that she would not be able to be in class on Friday, because of Rosh Hashanah.
Now, what I heard, in the midst of three hundred students packing up, was "I'm sorry, I can't be in class on Friday because of rush." As in, "I'm joining a sorority, so I have to take class off on Friday to go be in a pillowfight" or sock-filled-with-nickels-fight or drizzling-honey-and chocolate-all-over-other-girls-and-then-licking-it-off-fight. Whatever. I've never been in a sorority, so I have no idea.
Though if I were in charge of one, I know which way I would lean.
Anyway, some relatively lower-functioning part of the brain has processed this, and my head snaps completely upright, my left eyebrow shoots skywards, and I fix her in place with my very best evil eye. "This is not an acceptable reason to miss class," proclaims my evil eye (the left one). "And you are going to hell for thinking so." Such is the power of my gaze that nearby milk curdles. Neighborhood dogs are castrated. Walls shift uneasily out of my line of sight.
Student has actually retreated a step, eyes widening. "I wasn't going to go home at all," she squeaks, "but my uncle died."
Go home? I think. Why would she - ? And then my brain puts all the syllables together:
Ohhhh, rosh-ha-SHA-na . . .
"Oh, right," I say, the eyebrow returning to heel. "Sure. No problem."
I can see the realization in her eyes as she continues to back away: Only death can appease this TA. She eventually turns and flees, once she's at a safe distance. Leaving me feeling foolish and boogieman-like and wanting to call after her, "Hey, I'm really sorry! We don't have Jews where I'm from!"
She later dropped the course. I wrote up a couple scripts in my head about her being too distraught over her uncle's death to continue with the class, rather than being totally horrified by my refusal to acknowledge her faith.
My students took their final exam today and are deluging me with emails because they don't have the grades they want. I am, in turn, determinedly not wringing their necks. In celebration of this fact, I offer you a Great Moment in Teaching from my past.
Not long after the start of my first semester teaching, a student approached me after lecture. [The way this class was set up, there was a lecturer who spoke twice a week to three hundred students, said students then being broken up into about fifteen smaller groups that met with me and other TAs.] She explained to me that she would not be able to be in class on Friday, because of Rosh Hashanah.
Now, what I heard, in the midst of three hundred students packing up, was "I'm sorry, I can't be in class on Friday because of rush." As in, "I'm joining a sorority, so I have to take class off on Friday to go be in a pillowfight" or sock-filled-with-nickels-fight or drizzling-honey-and chocolate-all-over-other-girls-and-then-licking-it-off-fight. Whatever. I've never been in a sorority, so I have no idea.
Though if I were in charge of one, I know which way I would lean.
Anyway, some relatively lower-functioning part of the brain has processed this, and my head snaps completely upright, my left eyebrow shoots skywards, and I fix her in place with my very best evil eye. "This is not an acceptable reason to miss class," proclaims my evil eye (the left one). "And you are going to hell for thinking so." Such is the power of my gaze that nearby milk curdles. Neighborhood dogs are castrated. Walls shift uneasily out of my line of sight.
Student has actually retreated a step, eyes widening. "I wasn't going to go home at all," she squeaks, "but my uncle died."
Go home? I think. Why would she - ? And then my brain puts all the syllables together:
Ohhhh, rosh-ha-SHA-na . . .
"Oh, right," I say, the eyebrow returning to heel. "Sure. No problem."
I can see the realization in her eyes as she continues to back away: Only death can appease this TA. She eventually turns and flees, once she's at a safe distance. Leaving me feeling foolish and boogieman-like and wanting to call after her, "Hey, I'm really sorry! We don't have Jews where I'm from!"
She later dropped the course. I wrote up a couple scripts in my head about her being too distraught over her uncle's death to continue with the class, rather than being totally horrified by my refusal to acknowledge her faith.
# posted by FriendlyInstructor @ 8:52 PM 
