Copyright © 1997, Louis Schmier and Atwood Publishing.
From: Louis_Schmier
Date: Sun, 29 Jun 1997 08:19:12 -0400 (EDT)
Subject: Random Thought: Dangers of Forgetfulness
As I
challenged the south Georgia heat and humidity this early
pre-dawn morning, I was thinking about a chit-chat I had
had with some colleagues last Thursday. It was the
beginning of the summer quarter--first week of the
quarter--and already they were starting to draw placards
warning that the end of the academic world was at hand.
"The students are always late to class," one
complained. "They're not even smart enough to find
the classroom," another demeaningly chuckled.
"They'd rather be at the beach or laying out on the
front lawn than be in class," a third sighed.
On and on
it went as my colleagues started looking around for some
sackcloth to wear and ashes to cast over their heads:
"they don't do the assignments;" "they're
already coming up with excuses why they weren't in
class;" "their job is more important to them
than class;" "they'd rather party than
study;" "they really don't care if they learn
or not as long as they get a good grade;"
"they're coming up with all sorts of excuses for not
doing what they're supposed to or why they weren't in
class;" "they don't care;" "they
don't pay attention to the lecturs;" "they're
letting in anyone who can write a check for
tuition."
With each
moanful observation heads shook in doleful mutual
support, shoulders drooped in resigned unison, smiles
disappeared on cue, chords of sighs rang out in loud
chorus. Their bodies moved and danced a mournful
choreography of wishing that they were somewhere else
doing something else that was meaningful and purposeful.
In the
midst of this lamenting, one of my colleagues turned and
asked me, "Louis, you haven't said a word and you
keep smiling. Don't you ever get angry with your students
or frustrated with them?"
I calmly
replied, "Only when I let myself forget what it's
like to be a student."
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