Adjusting Expectations or This Ain’t High School My Friend
by Shari Dinkins
I JUST OVERHEARD two of my students in the hallway.
Student A: “Hey, where were you last week?”
Student B: “Oh, I had to take care of some stuff.”
Student A: “Dude, the essay was due yesterday.”
Student B: “I’ll get it in Friday.” Long pause. “I checked with that girl behind me. She said I didn’t miss anything.”
Student A: “Homework was due on Monday. Oh, and we did something on Wednesday.”
Student B: “Well, I didn’t miss anything.”
Truth? Student B had missed six full days of class. In addition to in-class work, much which was turned in, he had missed two assignments and an essay that had been due during his absence. What was even worse, in my opinion, is that he didn’t understand that he had missed learning.
Part-time faculty at community colleges battle this “high-school” mentality every day. The notion that only days when homework or a paper is due “count” is frustrating. However, this is not the only misguided student perception we battle in community college.
A colleague, who has supported himself as an adjunct for seven years, confessed that if a student consistently comes to his developmental-level course, he will pass them. That’s right—if they simply sit in the seat and make an attempt, he will give them a C, and they will become my problem the next semester. Translation: butt-in-the-seat equals passing grade.
Truth? He is wrong to pass his students just for showing up to class. Community college is not high-school. No one should earn a passing grade simply by warming the seat on her/his chair.
Of course, awarding grades is problematic. High-school teachers answer to parents. In community colleges it is rare to encounter a student’s guardian during office hours. Still, arguing about grades seems to come into play more at the community college level than it does at the four-year college level. At the community colleges where I have taught, students frequently either argue about their grades, or request a grade review from the Chair or Dean of the department.
And when not busy haggling over grades, I’m enforcing what everyone (except our students) agrees are commonsense rules. For instance, no cell phone calls in the classroom.
But drawing the line is not always easy.
Chatting with a young, just-out-of-college instructor in the copy room, I find that she has no written guidelines about absenteeism in her syllabus. I showed her mine. Three consecutive absences without contacting me result in automatically being dropped or withdrawn. A student who manages to be absent six times throughout the semester with or without contacting me is rewarded with a dropped or withdrawn status.
It’s only fair. Adults understand this. Sometimes, my students do not.
Then again, sometimes I feel more like a nanny than a college professor. Students ask me again and again for essay assignment sheets. I’ve had students who’ve lost the syllabus three times in the semester.
In high school, there were always students who lost their books, or who did not bring them to class. In community college, I see the same behavior. The books are large and heavy. I leave it to the students to figure out how to lug them to class. For some, the answer is to simply leave their books at home.
Truth? There is nothing I enjoy more than hearing my colleague next door help a student with her grammar. As my students converge on my office door, I hope they always feel welcome. However, I do hope to raise the bar somehow—to help my students understand that although community college is frequently seen as a bridge between high school and a four-year university, it is not Senior Year—the Sequel.
