20131212.0800

Yesterday was a good day.  Proctoring final exams once again worked in my favor; I was able to get two of my four classes graded completely, their grades submitted to the school.  Two more classes remain, their exams waiting to be given and one or two individual items still waiting for my review.  And the expected grade complaints have already started; I have gotten several emails asking me to give students "just a few more points" or to round up a grade (despite my calculating grades on a point-add system this term).  I imagine that more will follow as students see what numbers have been posted to the in-class system and to the school's more formal records.  They always do.

Sometimes, those complaints get entirely out of hand, involving other people entirely.  In fact, I have told one such story before--and some who read this might remember when it happened.  I do not think that I will have the same kind of experience in my current position as I had in that long-ago time as a graduate teaching assistant; something about the collegiate culture where I am now is sufficiently different from that where I was then to forestall that kind of thing happening, or so I feel.  But I confess that I am always just a bit uneasy as I submit grades.  I always have to wonder if I will be harassed in my office or over email--or at home (because Sherwood Cottage is not well hidden, and I shudder to think that some...unpleasant person will find where I live and bother my lovely wife or my growing baby).  I have to wonder if a student or parent will confront me openly and I will be obliged to use what I have learned and raise my hand in anger.

I have to wonder if this time will be the time that I am confronted by a weapon against which I can make no defense.

(You who think it will not happen...really?  Really?  And do you think that college students are entirely sane and stable, or that they lack access to guns?)

Yet even so, I still issue grades that accurately reflect what I see of the students' performance, filtered through rubrics that I make public online and in class.  Some students do exceptionally well, putting together pieces of writing that are delights to read.  Some do not, and I cannot offer them rewards that they have not earned.  Comments about what to seek out and eliminate from their writing, comments about what to add to their writing, I offer them (whatever grade they may earn), but the students who do not write well--whether because they tried valiantly and did not reach the goals set for them or, too often, because they neglected to make the attempt until late, and then attempted it poorly--do not get good grades from me.  (The difference between what I consider good and what they consider good--they, who are accustomed to getting As for simply showing up--does not help.)  And they should not.  But I still worry.