Grind, grind, grind

In both 102 classes, I gave the "this is when the weak are separated from the strong" thing. We'll see whether that has any effect.

I managed--barely--to have the papers ready for the work they were doing in class today. Two students sent papers via e-mail over the weekend, and I got the print versions too late to have them ready before class; I've promised to have those two ready to be picked up tomorrow. However, students who missed last class, didn't contact me, and simply showed up today with their first versions are on their own.

I've been frustrated as hell, but really, in some ways they are learning. What I saw in class today was evidence that sometimes they simply need to swan-dive into the pavement a few times before they learn that something they've always done is not a good idea. In both classes, I said, "If something didn't work the first time, it's sure not going to work the third: Try Something Else."A number of them specifically addressed that, asking me what they should do instead of what they've been doing. That's a hopeful sign.

I still have a bunch of the first papers to finish, which I must do tomorrow. This seems feasible. Then papers for the Short Story class. Then miscellaneous flotsam (idea logs and so on from ages past). Committee work. After class today was all about putting the stack of shit I have to do in priority order. Never mind the stuff on the back burner.

I think I was fretting in an earlier post about this semester's Wonder Boy, who suddenly dropped off the radar last week, didn't turn in a first version of his paper. He showed up today--and told me that his life just took a bad turn, and he's been fucking up: as only one instance, he went out last night instead of working on his paper. He did give me a bit of a sob story (grandfather died, girl broke up with him), but mostly he admitted that he allowed himself to become completely irresponsible--and he asked what he could do to get back on track. I gave him two options: One, he can do his best to do all the parts of this second paper with no feedback from me, know he'll take a hit to his final grade but have the work done and out of his hair and be able to move on. Two, IF he does everything else beautifully for the rest of the semester--not even the tiniest screw-up--I'll give him an incomplete and we can do the paper 2 process, all the steps, together next semester. I did warn him about the perils of that option, but of course he'd prefer it: he's bucking for an A, and he doesn't want the hit to his final grade. I told him that even if he goes with the incomplete, there's no guarantee he'll get the A (and honestly, much as I appreciate his smarts and his enthusiasm, I'm not so sure he's got an A in him at the moment), but having the shot seems very important to him, despite the very real risks. I told him to think it over and let me know next week what he wants to do. I bet he goes for the incomplete--but mostly, I just want him to stick in the class; I don't want to lose him.

In fact, I don't want to lose anyone else from either class, especially not the later one. In each class, there is one student whose effect is neutral: it doesn't help to have him there, but it doesn't hurt (and yes, both are young men). In the later class, everyone else is an absolute benefit--even one poor dear thing who is so utterly confused she's about to fall apart. She tends to want to monopolize my time, mostly to tell me how hard everything is and how stupid she feels; I'm trying to get her to turn her energy to something productive  instead of spending her time wandering around in a morass of fuss and feathers. She is, in fact, in serious trouble. Not only is writing tremendously difficult for her, she has serious problems with reading. As an example: she found the phrase "instill pride" in one of the critical essays and used it continually as a noun phrase in her paper, as in "The poems show instill pride." I mean, where do I begin? I gave her all the warm fuzzies: you're not stupid, this just isn't where your brain works best; we just need to find the tools that will help you; yes this is hard, and it hurts, but you're learning--all that bilge. OK, it isn't bilge; there is actually some truth there, but whether she's capable of getting where she needs to get in the nine remaining weeks of the semester--especially when we're about to embark on Left Hand of Darkness? Mmmmm, maybe not so much. Still, she's working and trying and refusing to quit, and I give her credit for that.

OK, so what note do I want to sound for the end of the day? Picking up on the fact that--despite all the things that remain unchanged in their work--they are learning, I need to remind myself, and them, that the wheels of learning simply grind exceeding slow, and we all get pulped in the process. I did make an executive decision to mark all the penalties for their finished first papers--the kinds of stupid errors that knock a C- paper to below an F--but then grant them mercy: I'm going to let them have the grades they'd have made without the penalties. But just once. For the second paper, the full weight of the penalties will crash down upon them. I think seeing the dreadful fate they narrowly escaped may help get them to button up. I'm hoping, anyway.

Hope. I want to keep it present, for them and for me. It's such a lovely and potentially fragile thing, and so important to perseverance. If I can keep hope wafting through the classrooms for another nine weeks, we'll all benefit.