Thank heaven for Paul

I have, once again, made so little progress it might as well be zero progress. I finished grading the essay I started yesterday and graded one more. I wondered if I could find an "easy" one to grade, but the few I looked at caused me to feel existential despair, so I decided to hand it up for the evening and hope for a more productive day tomorrow.

Part of the lack of progress is that I've been having phone conversations, but I don't regret the time lost to them--especially not the time lost to talking with Paul. Of course, our conversations are always wonderful; he is my dear, good friend, and we can talk a blue streak. But today, I wanted to vent to him and to get his support about Working Dad--and he was, as always, a voice of clarity and reason. In fact, I am not being overly draconian in this time of plague; I'm being realistic.

Today's little kicker was that Working Dad emailed to say he needed another example of what he's supposed to do. I said, in response, he doesn't need an example to know the difference between his words and someone else's, no matter how much stress he's under. The poor man is clearly a train-wreck, but as Paul said, Working Dad was a mess before the crisis hit--for years before, probably, maybe even always--so the crisis isn't really the problem, though it may be something of a factor. And the bottom line, Paul reminds me, is that the guy cannot seem to understand the most absolutely basic, simple of concepts, and therefore he cannot be said to have mastered what he needs in order to continue.

I am, of course, sorry that he paid for the course out of his own pocket and it won't advance him toward graduation. I am sorry that he may "never" be able to afford to take the class again (which begs the question how he can afford to take any classes again, but I won't go there). I am sorry that he is anxious and stressed. He still has to provide an essay that is actually an essay and that uses sources appropriately.

And as I'm writing this, I suddenly thought, "Wait: the handbook has sample student work, including examples of how to use sources." And I've certainly assigned the pages in the handbook where those examples are given, though whether he's read and comprehended them is a different matter entirely. I will point that out to him when we talk.

That's my decision, by the way: we need to talk. It's clear that the back-and-forth of emails will not suffice to clarify the situation for him, so we're going to have another meeting next week. I expect I will give him a chance to "fix" (as in, actually write) his essay for the final version, rather than dropping the (velvet) axe right now--but I will tell him that if he screws up again (which I expect he will), he will have only the option to withdraw or fail. He doesn't have to withdraw; he can refuse until the cows come home (where the hell are those cows, anyway?), but he won't get a passing grade.

On a more positive note, I did hear from the student I was fretting about who didn't fix an instance of plagiarism in the final version of essay 1. I'll meet with him next week, too--and I will allow him the opportunity to fix the mistake and get credit for the essay; he can learn from the learning opportunity, whereas apparently Working Dad cannot.

Paul and I also talked about life during pandemic in general--and how the unknowns of the future are more glaringly "unknown" than is usually the case. Apparently, the powers that be are wondering whether the school will even exist in the fall: will we have enough students enrolled to keep anyone, never mind everyone, working? Unknown. How long will the pandemic last? Unknown. What will happen to our society in general as a result of the pandemic? Unknown. How might it affect our individual lives? Unknown.

So, we breathe (coherence breathing--five breaths a minute, six seconds in, six seconds out--for 10-20 minutes, or 4-4-6-2 breathing--breathe in for a count of four, pause the breath for a count of four, breathe out for a count of six, pause the breath for a count of two: repeat at least five times). And we follow the 12-Step program adage: Trust in God and do the dishes.

And, like Scarlett, think about anything else tomorrow, when we're stronger.