On Mishaps
Now, I had a sinking suspicion that the excellent papers might outrun the terrible ones in the race to make me feel like a useless lump. This occurred to me while I was pondering my own freshman English class, in which I was “politely encouraged” to visit the Writing Center. I brought in something sharp and polished, ready to be turned in, and looked expectantly at the tutor. He shifted uncomfortably. Awkward praise was offered, minute grammatical preferences were exchanged, and I left with his signature and a mild sense of annoyance.
“Well. That wasn’t very helpful.”
I’m not sure to whom I did this, but I would like to formally apologize. This scenario sucks.
Poorly written papers are easier to work with than their well-composed counterparts. With the exception of the stray ESL paper (which can confound me in determining where to start,) there’s a lot more material to talk about and a lot more advice I feel comfortable in giving. I feel obligated to do more for any student than look their work up and down, stamp a smiley face on it and send him on his way, but some of the better written papers – especially this early in the semester – just don’t need much help.
I try not to waste a student’s time, so these sessions tend to be shorter than the rest. I make sure to cover my bases, but I’m not going to drag it out if there just isn’t much to be done. My mistake, though, is in assuming quality means absence of error.
I got an excellent piece of writing in the DELC last night. The ideas were clear, coherent and well-expressed. Grammar errors were minimal, and while I caught a handful of them, I was told later on that I had missed a few things, too. After a night spent explaining basic grammatical rules and ferreting out obvious mistakes, the subtle ones were lost on me. I’m irritated with myself for doing the student no favors in not being more aggressive in the session.
The one before it, in contrast, was a cake-walk. Independent clause, comma splice, maybe flesh this out more, maybe go into more detail here, this expression is good, how do you feel? Easy. I was confident, the student was attentive, we both learned something and walked away feeling productive. I felt useful. With a student closer to my level of literacy, I find myself fumbling uncertainly. It’s unpleasant.
Am I up in the night or is this a common occurrence?
“Well. That wasn’t very helpful.”
I’m not sure to whom I did this, but I would like to formally apologize. This scenario sucks.
Poorly written papers are easier to work with than their well-composed counterparts. With the exception of the stray ESL paper (which can confound me in determining where to start,) there’s a lot more material to talk about and a lot more advice I feel comfortable in giving. I feel obligated to do more for any student than look their work up and down, stamp a smiley face on it and send him on his way, but some of the better written papers – especially this early in the semester – just don’t need much help.
I try not to waste a student’s time, so these sessions tend to be shorter than the rest. I make sure to cover my bases, but I’m not going to drag it out if there just isn’t much to be done. My mistake, though, is in assuming quality means absence of error.
I got an excellent piece of writing in the DELC last night. The ideas were clear, coherent and well-expressed. Grammar errors were minimal, and while I caught a handful of them, I was told later on that I had missed a few things, too. After a night spent explaining basic grammatical rules and ferreting out obvious mistakes, the subtle ones were lost on me. I’m irritated with myself for doing the student no favors in not being more aggressive in the session.
The one before it, in contrast, was a cake-walk. Independent clause, comma splice, maybe flesh this out more, maybe go into more detail here, this expression is good, how do you feel? Easy. I was confident, the student was attentive, we both learned something and walked away feeling productive. I felt useful. With a student closer to my level of literacy, I find myself fumbling uncertainly. It’s unpleasant.
Am I up in the night or is this a common occurrence?
posted by Briasaurus REX at 2:35 PM
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