The Despair of the Edumacator

Then again, maybe "Community" has it right.

We're a little downbeat today. We've just spent the last six-plus hours (!) reading students' writing assignments. We're not done yet--only about halfway through--yet we've officially reached burnout stage. Looks like we'll be doing a lot of reading in the office tomorrow.

What's depressing is the apparent mystification of some students with straightforward instructions. Don't get us wrong: Many of the papers we read today were quite good--for rough drafts, anyway. Others, though. . . .

Let us explain the Solipsist's pedagogical philosophy: We firmly believe that anything--anything--can be taught. Furthermore, we believe that anything--anything--can be broken into a series of steps. This includes writing. Now, we are not suggesting that by following a simple series of steps anybody can become Michael Chabon or Stephen King (well, maybe Stephen King). We are, however, suggesting that any writing assignment can be broken into a series of manageable steps and that, by following those steps--filling in the blanks, painting by numbers, choose your own metaphor--even a beginning writer can produce clear, concise prose.

Basically, learning to write is like playing baseball.

(Digression: To the Solipsist, most things are like playing baseball. EOD)

While every pitcher has his own particular strengths, and some pitchers like Tim Lincecum and Josh Beckett are freaks of nature, every single major league hurler must be able to do one thing: throw a fastball down the middle of the plate. No, this ability won't get you to the major leagues, but it's a sure bet that, if you can't do that, you'll never make it out of A-ball. Furthermore, once you CAN throw that fastball down the middle with regularity, you can start experimenting with the curves and sliders and splitters that will get you to the Bigs.

The Solipsist is teaching his students to throw fastballs down the middle of the plate.

He gives them a framework: a simple set of instructions for, in this case, writing a basic illustrative paragraph. He has even gone so far as to print up a simple outline wherein students can sketch out their paragraphs before beginning to write. It is literally a "fill in the blanks" form. Most students seem to thrive with this kind of structure.

And yet, some can't grasp it.

What is one to do when, after handing out the outlines and explaining that students should fill it out and then draft a paragraph, one is approached by a student who asks if you want her to write something? Seriously, do you have any idea how hard it is to restrain one's sarcastic impulses? And those impulses SHOULD be restrained. Because it's not willfulness or defiance. It's true mystification.

We have a student in our class this semester who has already taken this class--with us as teacher--twice before. She's not going to make it. Now or ever. But she keeps coming back. Do we roll our eyes in frustration or applaud her tenacity? Or both? What's a teacher to do when confronted with someone he fears he simply will not be able to teach? Suggestions are welcome.