Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Shop Talk
Dear student who, having earned a 97 on her research paper, asked me how to improve her grade,
Come, walk to my office with me after class. Close the door. Let me share a secret with you. You didn't fail in three small ways that subtracted three points from perfection. You began with nothing, a blank page and a blank grade, and skyrocketed from 0 to 97. That's great, and by 'great' I could also have said excellent, wonderful, or fantastic; it's all the same thing. A 97 is a high A, better than 95 (mid-A), better than the noncomittal 91 or 92 (A/A-), and approaching the occasional undergraduate magnificence that earns 100. In all honesty, it could have been a 96 or a 98; 96, 97, and 98 are interchangeable.
I know you wish for greater precision -- that there were three little things your paper did wrong that, if repaired, would ensure a perfect grade. If you're a student like I was, you pitch your tent with the three frowning points instead of with the ninety seven smiling ones. I don't mean to frustrate you, but you could embrace this situation and learn from it in ways far beyond what the assignment intended. I'm sure you've already experienced the impossibility of precision and perfection in prayer, friendship and love. You ask one thing and hear a different answer, want one thing and get another, strive for crystal clear communication and settle for loving intentions. I'm only telling you this because we're behind closed doors, but the truth is that grading is the same way. We'd probably do better to just say pass-fail, or check minus-check-check plus. It doesn't make much sense to divide up quality into a hundred portions, or into numbers or letters. I had to pick a number so I did, but the simple truth about your work is that it's very super great.
Maybe you'll be ready for this day even sooner than I will (I'm still pissed at the graduate school prof who promised me publication and but gave me an A- and, without my permission, gave my draft to someone else to incorporate into their article that would be published in his book instead of mine.) I think we need to do just the opposite of what Jesus would do. Jesus would leave the 99 to pursue the 1. We need to stay with the 97 and release the 3. Tie little strings to point 98, point 99, and point 100 and watch them float away like balloons. And then, later and only when we really feel we're ready, we could tie strings to each of the 97 points and let them float away, too. What would we be left with? No teacher's judgment, no fear of failure -- just our own lovely writing.
Peace,
Dr. Paris
Dear student who, having earned a 97 on her research paper, asked me how to improve her grade,
Come, walk to my office with me after class. Close the door. Let me share a secret with you. You didn't fail in three small ways that subtracted three points from perfection. You began with nothing, a blank page and a blank grade, and skyrocketed from 0 to 97. That's great, and by 'great' I could also have said excellent, wonderful, or fantastic; it's all the same thing. A 97 is a high A, better than 95 (mid-A), better than the noncomittal 91 or 92 (A/A-), and approaching the occasional undergraduate magnificence that earns 100. In all honesty, it could have been a 96 or a 98; 96, 97, and 98 are interchangeable.
I know you wish for greater precision -- that there were three little things your paper did wrong that, if repaired, would ensure a perfect grade. If you're a student like I was, you pitch your tent with the three frowning points instead of with the ninety seven smiling ones. I don't mean to frustrate you, but you could embrace this situation and learn from it in ways far beyond what the assignment intended. I'm sure you've already experienced the impossibility of precision and perfection in prayer, friendship and love. You ask one thing and hear a different answer, want one thing and get another, strive for crystal clear communication and settle for loving intentions. I'm only telling you this because we're behind closed doors, but the truth is that grading is the same way. We'd probably do better to just say pass-fail, or check minus-check-check plus. It doesn't make much sense to divide up quality into a hundred portions, or into numbers or letters. I had to pick a number so I did, but the simple truth about your work is that it's very super great.
Maybe you'll be ready for this day even sooner than I will (I'm still pissed at the graduate school prof who promised me publication and but gave me an A- and, without my permission, gave my draft to someone else to incorporate into their article that would be published in his book instead of mine.) I think we need to do just the opposite of what Jesus would do. Jesus would leave the 99 to pursue the 1. We need to stay with the 97 and release the 3. Tie little strings to point 98, point 99, and point 100 and watch them float away like balloons. And then, later and only when we really feel we're ready, we could tie strings to each of the 97 points and let them float away, too. What would we be left with? No teacher's judgment, no fear of failure -- just our own lovely writing.
Peace,
Dr. Paris
5 Comments:
As you know, I too was the student clinging to the 3 points, and still do to a slightly lesser degree. Beautiful image of the balloons floating away. I will strive to release the 97, but will be pleased to see the three disappear into the infinite sky.
Have you read God Is A Verb, by David A. Cooper. Reading it now and am amazed. Peace, my friend.
By
Cheryl Ann, at 2:26 PM
I wish somebody had told me this, back in the days when I took those three missing points so very personally.
By
Rachel, at 6:25 PM
Ooooh, I've got more than a couple students this semester who need these words. Which unfortunately, is true every semester.
By
Tonya, at 9:14 PM
Thank you for writing this! As I join the psych faculty at Messiah in the fall, you've helped me to think through one of the toughest issues I've dealt with as an adjunct. My heart is broken by/for these students who give such power to the lost points that represent their imperfection. I, too, remember the angry tears I shed over any grade that didn't meet my superhuman standards.
By
Heather Hostler, at 12:33 AM
Congratulations, Heather - I heard that you were joining the faculty but hadn't e-mailed you.
By
Jenell, at 7:48 AM
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