Advice to New Teachers: There Are Few Black and White Answers

If you're looking for yesterday's post, don't.  It's gone.  At the request of a devoted Sloppist, the post has been excised from history--because we all know once something has been removed from the internet it's gone forever, right?  Well, anyway. . . .

Yesterday's post featured an exaggerated representation of a dialogue between instructors, debating the relative merit of a student's essay.  At issue was whether teachers should, based on extenuating circumstance, pass an essay that had serious flaws.  In this particular case, we debated whether or not to pass an essay wherein the writer demonstrated great improvement in some areas but not enough to show readiness for the next level writing class.  The extenuating circumstance was that the student was moving out of state, and thus would not be going on to the next level class anyway.  In curricular terms, the question was whether it made sense for the graders to serve as "gatekeepers" when, in this case, no one was attempting to go through the gate.

The devoted Sloppist mentioned in the first paragraph was concerned that my typical snarky attitude would be misconstrued by faithful readers--all both of them--as an indication that we instructors hold a cavalier attitude toward grading a high-stakes exam.  She may or may not have been right, but I respect her concern, so I took down the offending post.  But the basic issue behind the post is an interesting one: What should teachers consider when they engage in the admittedly subjective act of grading student writing?

Take the case described above: In general terms, a student had written an argumentative essay under timed conditions.  She had not seen the prompt before, and so had no way of preparing an answer ahead of time or even of "studying" in anything more than the most general way (e.g., reviewing  notes on essay structure, going over grammatical problem areas, etc.).  Her essay, overall, featured strong content: She displayed a solid understanding of essay organization, as well as the ability to provide adequate support for her main ideas.  The essay included an appropriate introduction with a thesis statement, at least three reasonably well-developed body paragraphs, and a conclusion.  The essay even acknowledged and refuted the opposing viewpoint.  The problem was that there were numerous grammatical errors of such severity that they would preclude the student's success in future writing classes.  So what would you do?

Well, actually, the answer is simple: You fail the essay.  You don't set the student up for failure in the next class by "socially promoting" her.  But what if, as in the case described above, you don't have to worry about social promotion: The student is leaving anyway.  Do you stand by your principles--a failing essay is a failing essay--or do you acknowledge the good work the student HAS done, the skills she HAS mastered, and send her on her way with a sense of accomplishment?  You may argue that integrity requires you to fail the essay, but integrity is not a black and white concept.  Integrity could mean rewarding the student for aspects of a job well done, so as to encourage her future efforts--or at any rate so as not to discourage her.  A rigid adherence to standards certainly simplifies one's life, but it may not always be the most appropriate response to a given situation.

Advice for New Teachers (and Anyone Else Job-Hunting): Know Thy References

I've never understood the whole idea of checking references when hiring a new employee.  Sure, in theory it makes a certain kind of sense: An employer would want to know that the person he or she is about to hire has enough social competence to merit a favorable word from a previous employer or colleague.  But how valuable is any information gleaned?  After all, if I provide the name of someone to serve as a reference, an employer will logically assume that the reference is going to say nice things about me--else, why would I provide that name in the first place.  I've always thought that the very provision of a person's name as a reference obviates the need for an employer to call the reference.

Well, I had always thought that.

The other day, though, I received an e-mail from someone who had been listed as a reference for someone we were considering hiring.  I opened the message, fully expecting to read some boilerplate commentary about how wondrous the prospective hire was.  Instead, the reference explained that he was surprised to have been asked for a recommendation, as he actually had very little knowledge of the applicant's skills and had not even been told that the applicant was listing him as a reference.

Well.

I have a newfound appreciation for the reference check--not so much because I find great value in the hosannas most references will sing, but rather because I have come to understand that the ability of an applicant to select an appropriate reference is a small but effective way to assess an applicant's judgment.  Could save an employer a lot of heartache in the long run.

Extremity in the Pursuit of Moderation Is No Virtue

I give up.

For as long as I can remember--which admittedly is not very long, thanks to repeated blows to the head suffered during my last whaling expedition--at least WOS told me they were suffered during a whaling expedition--frankly, it sounds a little fishy to me. . . . Get it?  "Fishy"?  "Whaling expedition"?  Huh?  Huh?

Where was I?

Oh, yes.

For as long as I can remember, one could scarcely turn on the news or read a newspaper without finding some dire warnings about the impending societal breakdown caused by our soaring national budget deficit.  Indeed, the deficit was of such concern that it caused lawmakers of both parties to embrace draconian fiscal solutions.  Social spending slashed!  Taxes raised on the wealthy!  (Well, "as if," but still.)  Freezes in government salaries!  Layoffs in government offices!  Reduced allocations for selective enforcement of IRS laws!  (Which the more I hear about the more I start to wonder if there really is any major scandal going on there, but that's another story.)  The Republic must be saved from its own profligacy, and if some temporary pain is the price we must pay to stabilize the national budget, so be it!  So you would think today's news that the budget deficit is actually shrinking faster than expected, and that the annual deficit would actually be about $200 billion less than projections had indicated would be unambiguously good news.

Except it's not!

Economists have mixed feelings about deficit reduction based on their ideological leanings.  For some, the fact that the deficit is shrinking is less important than the fact that unemployment remains high, there being some correlation between a shrinking deficit and continued job shortages--presumably because government could do more to increase employment if it were willing to spend money, which would increase the deficit, but for ostensibly "good" reasons.  Got it?  Other economists say that any current shrinkage is but a temporary reprieve from overwhelming forces that will come crashing down upon us in some not-too-distant future, plunging us into a Mad-Maxian dystopia of widespread anarchy and rampant Thunderdome construction. 

Now, what I don't know about economics could fill a book--an economics textbook most likely.  But if deficits are bad, and reducing deficits is also bad, could somebody please tell me at what point I get to stop panicking?

And as if this economic quandary weren't bad enough, we can't even count on biological certainties anymore.  You know how you're not supposed to eat too much salt?  Well, now it turns out that a low-salt diet has no particular benefits and may even increase the risk of heart attacks!  Yes, presumably one still should not ingest excessive amounts of salt--

--and I love this commercial for a drug--I think it's Cialis--that features the disclaimer that people shouldn't "drink alcohol to excess" while taking the drug.  Are there drugs whose makers recommend excessive drinking?--

--but having too little salt in one's diet may be just as bad.

Must we constantly struggle, Goldilocks-like, to find the just-right balance in everything?  Can we not agree on the relative horribleness of anything?  Hitler, maybe.  At least he's good for something.

Still Slogging Along

Every time I feel remorse over my inability to provide you, my loyal followers, with some daily drop of wisdom--whether due to lack of inspiration or lack of time--I simply browse my list of "Blogs I'm Following."  It makes me feel better.  Because, while I may struggle to come up with anything more than a semi-funny one-liner, or a repetitive rant against right-wing ideology, I note that all--ALL--of the blogs I follow have apparently thrown in the towel.  Even "Sleep Talkin' Man" has gone silent.  I hope this means he's stopped talking and not stopped sleeping!  Although, considering that they just welcomed a new baby, I suppose it could well be the latter.  My point, folks, is that whatever I lack in originality, wit, or even bare enjoyability, I more than make up for in consistency.

You're welcome!

I Can Haz 501(c)4 Status?

These past few days the news has focused obsessively on IRS-Gate: the apparent targeting of right-wing groups for intensive investigation by the IRS when these groups apply for tax-exempt status.  Regarding the scandal, here are my two cents (which, since I am clearly unaffiliated with any Tea Party groups will never be taxed or audited): The thought of any government agency--but especially the dreaded IRS--selectively investigating groups based on those groups' political leanings is, to say the least, disturbing.  Whoever made the decision to target Tea-Party groups should be sanctioned if not fired.  Much as I dislike "Tea Party Patriots" and their ilk, I acknowledge their right to organize freely and without fear of government interference: Indeed, any untoward government interference only helps these groups to advance their overwrought conspiracy theories.

For my money, though, the worst part of this whole debacle is that these Tea Party groups probably should be investigated--along with any number of liberal interest groups.  These groups that claim tax-exempt status--ostensibly as "social welfare" organizations--when in fact their primary purpose is to promote political agendas are abusing the system that grants deserved tax exemptions to legitimate charities.  How much harder will it now become for the IRS to do its actual job?

A Bowl of Cookie

Growing up, I gained a peculiar understanding of the phrase "home-cooked meal."  Generally, my mother (MOS) would speak those words ironically, as she popped a Stouffer's lasagna in the oven or handed me the menu from the Chinese take-out or announced that we would feast that evening at the Mark Twain Diner (where "Today's Special" was always scrod).  My stepfather cooked: He was big on roast beef or the occasional chicken parmigiana.  MOS, though, was never what you would call the typical, sitcom-style mom, slaving over a hot stove for hours to prepare nine-course meals.  Don't get me wrong: I never went hungry.  But MOS was generally too worn out from days dealing with middle-schoolers to whip up culinary feasts even if she had been so inclined.

One day, though, when I was in college, MOS stumbled upon an article in Consumer Reports, which rated chocolate-chip cookie mixes.  I believe Betty Crocker won their taste test.  MOS read the report and was intrigued at how simple the whole thing looked.  Why, she might even try making these cookies. 

I don't think I guffawed, but I can't imagine I was able to keep a look of skepticism off my face.

"I can make those cookies!"

"I don't doubt that you could do it.  But you expect me to believe you will?"

"I might!"

This must have been early in the year--January or February--because we arrived at an agreement: If I managed to bring home a 4.0 GPA that semester, MOS would make the cookies.  Honestly, neither of us truly believed this would be an issue: I was a good student, but not a great one; I had never managed straight A's before.  Still, this provided MOS a nice, face-saving way out of her ill-considered boast.

Well, you can imagine what happened.  And MOS was true to her word.  She went out and bought a package of Betty Crocker's chocolate chip cookie mix.  And really, how hard could it be?  The instructions were incredibly simple: They essentially called for placement of blobs of cookie dough on a sheet, placing said sheet in the oven, and waiting.  Delicious homemade cookies were mere minutes away.

There's an episode of "The Simpsons"--one of their Halloween specials--that features a take-off on "Harry Potter."  Bart and Lisa go to Hogwarts, where Lisa (naturally) excels, and Bart can do nothing right.  When asked to transform a frog into a prince, Bart creates this vomiting abomination, who croaks, "Every moment I live is agony."

If MOS's cookies could speak, they would have said the same thing.

What emerged from the oven was not so much cookies as an amorphous blob of batter and semi-heated chocolate.  I ate it with a spoon.

In all fairness, it tasted fine.  Indeed, MOS may well have invented cookie-dough as a tasty treat in and of itself.  And so, while others may brag of their mothers culinary skills, I will always hold the fondest memories of my bowlful of cookie.

Happy Mother's Day, MOS.