I gave a final last night. Everyone seemed in good spirits except one student, "Old Man River." I've learned a lot from Old Man River this term. He's about 70 years old and has absolutely no patience with anyone in the class. He absolutely hates computers and to tell you the truth I do not understand why he is even taking a computer class. He tells me that they use computers for everything and has no choice. He waves his arms in surrender as his tells me this every class period over the last 15 weeks.
We have had many conferences. I learned that he hates group work, hates that the class is noisy, and does not think that I am stern enough. He told me that we do way too many activities. Anyway, he walked into the classroom about 15 minutes late for the final. I graciously handed him the final. He looked at it for 1 minute and then he left. I think he took the final with him! Anyway, I felt bad. Everyone said, "such a waste." He won't get credit now.
Let me tell you though, I don't think it was a total waste. That man had more fun doing research and googling then anyone in the class. He told me some fabulous stories about Paris, France. One of the course assignments is to use the internet to plan a dream vacation. In my demonstration, I show the students how I choose to visit Paris, France. We use a search engine to locate famous landmarks and cut and paste these landmarks to make an itinerary using a wordprocessor. Old Man River seemed delighted with the assignment and he went wild with the search engine.
He spent an hour after class telling me that Paris, used to be a relatively cheap place for him to visit before the dollar went into the toliet. He would smuggle one thing or another into Paris (he didn't say what) and sell it on the black market. He spent weeks there enjoying himself with his lady friends and only had smuggle in one or two little things. I liked the way he would smile and his clouded blue eyes would get big when he told these stories. He talked about riding a motor bike and drinking. I watched this man completely struggle with his assginment, but he got it done, and he seemed rather pleased with himself.
There are many days when Old Man River was grumpy. He said he didn't think he wanted to be a "worker". He didn't like all the requirements and BS that went along with taking college classes. I thought he meant "worker" in the Marxist sense. I could tell that Old Man River was no worker from the very first day of class. He did things when and if he felt like it. He took his time. He told me many stories about his civil disobedience and hunger striking fasts from the past. I told him that I liked my burgers and there was no way I'd be giving them up. I'm not sure if he found this amusing or not.
He would often criticize me for not knowing what life was really like before computers. He almost found it a disservice that I'd grown up curious about mainframes, and working on a Commmodore 64. He just thought I didn't understand, that I couldn't comprehend what life was like. It was almost like he felt that I was at least a couple of standard deviations away from really understanding him. He took it upon himself to stay after class to tell me what he thought of my teaching and how he felt everyone responded.
"You gotta put your foot down. End this group work business."
"Why? the research says that group work is good for students. We all learn from one another. Besides, that's one of the advantages of being together as community of learners."
Blank stare from Old Man River. He'd think for a moment and begin again.
"You go from activity to activity like a little hummingbird."
"But, we only did 3 activities in 2 hours"
"Too Many"
"Perhaps" He'd watch me deflate, and understand that his lecture had the desired affect on me.
He'd say, "I gotta get home now."
I'd drive home with all those comments reeling in my head. Why oh why, do I let this man get to me? On some level could he be right?
So now, as I grade my finals, I don't really have anything to grade for Old Man River.
In the back of my mind, I know that he is out there somewhere with a hard copy of my final. It won't be sold on the black market in Paris, but something tells me that I'd better change it next term. I mean, if I learned one thing from this man. Its that I can't underestimate Old Man River.
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To the Editor:
ReplyDeleteNow, let me begin by saying there is NO WAY I am even within hooting distance of seventy, so everyone can just shut up. But I would like to share some insights into playing Old Man River.
About a year ago, I took a series of classes at the local community college. My cumulative GPA from that experience is an immortal John "Bluto" Blutarsky zero point zero. Is that bad? No, because in 1990 I graduated from a respectable law school with honours, and have a BA from a highly regarded undergrad college. If there ever is a point in my life where the only thing keeping me from making it or zipping down the porcelain tubes are my community college scores, I know I'm a goner anyway--so who cares.
But it was a fascinating experience. When you are older than your classmates' parents, you can do things you couldn't do back in the day. Like, whenever someone said "I know this is a dumb question, but....", you can say "Hey [student name]--you know there's no such thing as a dumb question. Just dumb people who ask questions," without the instructor kicking your ass out of class (sometimes. I WAS kicked out of one of my "Education" classes, when (as a grad student) I "talked" without raising my hand. I'm not making that up).
On the plus side, it was like sitting next Janice Joplin, with her pounding out how freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose. But on the negative side, I would often forget who I was talking to. In another circumstance, I exploded with anger at some kids who were offended when I called "Justice" Voldemort Thomas a lying weasel-dick pig faced sack of fecal material (but not "fecal material"). My rhetoric became wilder and much, much more profane, as I said "Don't you remember those confirmation hearings? Never mind where he LIED his ass off about Professor Hill--but when he tried to claim he NEVER had an opinion about Roe v. Wade IN HIS LIFE? COME ON, NOW!"
But of course they had no memory of those hearings: all of them were less then five years old at the time. I might as well have worked myself up into a lather about Salmon P. Chase's impeachment or President Jackson closing down the United States Bank. Garrison Keilor once said (and this was several years ago), that for high school students today, the Vietnam War had all the relevance and familiarity as the War of 1812. You may not like it, Baby Boomer, and that may be wrong and immoral, but that's the way it is, old timer. Suck it up or die.
For me personal, that has moved from frustrating to sad. Listening to "kids" complain about how hard it was to draft papers, I would just smile and not say anything. Even if they cared (and there's no reason in the world why they should), how could I explain what it was like using a manual typewriter and carbon paper? Ultimately, it's isolating, and a little lonely, trying to talk to people who have never heard of Chuck Berry, when you have never heard of Lady Gaga or whatever.
In the classes I took, I never showed up for any of the finals, and missed most of the other tests as well. But until I read your note, it never even crossed my mind that one of those instructors would be troubled by handing me the Ef I deserved.
I do have to say though, I resent your implication that only "older" students traffick in the test black market. The only reason I didn't try that trick, was because I assumed that instructors HAD to draw up new exams each year--what with the practice of cheating in all its forms stretching back for millennia.
Bad craziness, as they say where I come from. At least, they used to say that.
I remain:
Bill Abendroth
Samsara Samizdat