Election crapola--again

Paul was just showing me the election results. I'm in a run-off for P&B (again) and a run-off for alternate--not even a full position--for scheduling. And that pisses me off. Once again, I'm sorely tempted to say "OK, fuck you, take my name off the ballot." I work hard on that committee, and I know what I'm doing, and at best I'll be the alternate? Grrrrrrrrrr. The P&B vote I understand better, especially after last year's flap--and the field of candidates was very strong. But it feels like my service to this department is valued pretty fucking low (as in 10 votes out of 79 cast). And since I am, in this regard at least, competitive, it just frosts my ass.

I also just spent a good deal of time reworking the form faculty use to request their courses, trying to make it more user-friendly, so they can have a better chance at getting the classes they want.

Ten votes. I can practically figure out who the ten are, just from my friends.

Well, I can't do anything about it this year. No matter what happens, I will run again next year, for a full slot. I actually enjoy doing scheduling, and I think I do a damned good job of it. It's one of the few committees I want to stay on.

OK, I'll just go have a little temper tantrum now.

I'm also pissed off from an earlier encounter with a plagiarizing student. I found three bona fide instances of cheating: all three students got the same letter. Three different responses. One student waited the 24-hour cooling off period (as I mandated in the letter) and then contacted me with a very contrite e-mail. I'll meet with him tomorrow, but he's forgiven--and since at least a good portion of his paper was his own writing, I'll let him revise. One appeared in my office hour today and admitted his wrong-doing, very contrite. However, his paper was wholesale plagiarism, so he can't revise (he didn't write anything in the first place)--and he'll have to gut it out for the rest of the semester: I won't let him withdraw. However, I told him if he does all the work for the rest of the semester to the best of his ability, I'd consider allowing him to withdraw at the end of the semester rather than receiving a failing grade. He gets that grace because he admitted his wrong-doing and he said he learned that everyone deserves a second chance.

Well, perhaps not everyone. The third case has my knickers in a knot. He told me he's been talking to "the dean" (whose name he couldn't remember) and that the dean said his absences shouldn't count because the student was in the hospital. (OK, you were in the hospital last week, but what about the three absences before you were in the hospital?) And he refused to wait the 24-hours before talking--read "arguing"--with me about the plagiarism, and refused to believe that I won't allow him to withdraw. His reason? He didn't plagiarize: his sister "helped" him with the paper. When I explained that is also plagiarism, he said, "I don't think it is." I said, "It doesn't matter what you think: it is--but we're not talking about this. You can talk to me in 24 hours."

So he's going to try to get the dean to give him the W without my permission--and I'm afraid he may be successful, which makes me wish to hell I'd sent the copy of the plagiarized paper to the dean immediately instead of waiting. Immediately after the class I tried to call the dean: no answer. I sent an e-mail: no reply (yet). If the student tells the dean that his excessive absences are the only reason he's in trouble in the class, the dean may overrule my decision before finding out about the plagiarism--and I'll be furious. I finally reached a secretary in the office a while ago (both deans were gone, as it was after 5): she left messages for both deans, and I just sent another e-mail to each of them individually. I figure I'll see what happens before I get too wound up about it. If the deans back me, then all is well. If for some reason they don't, I'll go to Bruce and see what my options are.

And suddenly, my 12:30 class of 102 students, who've been doing so well with The Left Hand of Darkness, have decided they don't get even the most rudimentary of sentences in the novel. One of them in particular--who is pretty smart--has abruptly turned into one of the "I dunno" types. Ask her any question and the answer is "I dunno." Maddening, makes me want to go squealing right around the bend with my hair turning into hissing serpents.

This is one of those days when I just hate this fucking place. Why do I do this? Why do I continue to slam myself around? For what return, exactly?

OK, I admit: it's been a rough couple of days physically (headache that won't go away, and accompanying stomach pain, and sleep "pattern" utterly chaotic), so I'm cranky. And a lot of little niggly bits are getting stuck in my craw: apparently our computer use has been under scrutiny, and in the process of checking out what we've been doing, whatever process is used messes up our connections to our office printer, so I can't print anything at work. And a senior observer from last semester suddenly asked if she could join the Native American Lit class--at this late juncture. (Um, sorry, but no.) Book vultures were here (the guys who make a living from buying our unwanted desk copies and selling them off: publishers hate them and blame them for the high cost of student copies of books; I don't mind making a few bucks cash off them but jaysus priest they can be annoying).

Oh, growf, rowr, bazz-fazz (as Pogo would say). I'm going to very quickly sort through what's on my desk and get the flock out of here.