Oy, vey ist mir

Technically the full expression is Oy, vey ist mir, which I understand from linguists is redundant, but serves our purpose thus for the rare whinging student:

Professor: Oy, I know what’s coming next, from this look of this student...

Student: Vey ist mir, woe is me. My grandmother died right after she knocked my laptop on the ground, destroying my perfect draft of the paper, which led me to buy the paper online, which is really a bummer since wouldn’t you know that they plagiarized half of it, and you said that we could always rewrite the paper for a better grade, that’s what a friend of a friend of mine said you always did in your class, or the adjunct who was paid $250 for the class did over the summer anyway, and I’m going to call the president’s office over this!

Professor: I’ll admit that’s a remarkable explanation. Did you take rhetoric by any chance?

Student: Yes, but I failed it because the stupid professor wouldn’t let me give my presentation late, even though I had my roommate fake a doctor’s note.

Professor: Well, that’s par for the course these days. We’re an old-fashioned institution. We believe you have to earn your grades.

Student: But I already paid for the course!

Sherman Dorn, Associate Professor at University of South Florida, at 7:35 am EST on December 19, 2005

Professors only say they care

The only problem is that most of these excuses work. Students know which professors fall for these tricks, and professors know which of their colleagues do. But, in the long run, most professors don’t care about what their undergrad grades. They don’t care that making allowances for one student hurts the rest, and they certainly have no qualms about giving the honest students lower grades than the “dishonest” ones who took incomplete after incomplete to turn in a paper (which was recycled from another class.)

Larry, at 10:47 am EST on December 19, 2005

You are just angry because the kids are amateurs

Every smart student knows which professors are pushovers. A lot of girls knows which TAs and profs are susceptible to whining or flirting. But, what is so wrong with this. Knowing how to play people is a necessary “life-skill.” Without exception every professor I know has used their social skills at least once to get where they are. The only qualm you people seem to have about undergrads doing this is that they are amateurish, and they have not figured out how to play the game as masterfully as you have.

Larry, at 11:51 am EST on December 19, 2005

?

As an undergrad at a well-respected university, I’ve had almost four years to learn that, in the grand scheme of things, I don’t matter all that much. This is not to say that I consider myself worthless, or irrelevant, but simply that I no longer envision myself as the center of the universe. I can credit this change, in large part, to my professors, who have always been willing to help me, provided I put in the necessary effort myself.

All this being said, I had some degree of difficulty reading Dr. McKinney’s article seriously. For instance, does she think that a student who desperately needs to be on “the meds"—someone embarassed, dejected, and burdened with the unnecessary guilt of depression—would actually go into a prof’s office, having likely missed a good deal of class time, and just break down crying? Or that because the idea of offering an “extension” for a paper is so absolutely ridiculous, any student who asks for one becomes a whiny, egocentric jerk? Yes, I realize that Dr. McKinney’s article is supposed to be only about the “Oy Vey” students, but let’s call a spade a spade: ALL students make, at a minimum, some of the requests McKinney presents in her article, and it ISNT ALWAYS EASY to distinguish between the Oy Vey-ers and the rest of us. Here is my logic:

1) Professors can probably recognize the very small number of students in their class who are clearly jerks, but the vast majority who don’t quickly build a rapport with their prof become unknowns.

2) Not every class requires attendance. Not every class requires participation. The classes that do are usually upper level, and there is a self-selecting mechanism involved: the harder and more specific the class, the more likely the students all care to some degree.

3) Between 1 & 2, it should become clear that having Oy Vey-ers in a small class with required participation and attendance—the kind of class where, as a professor, you could expect to receive the disingenuous requests that McKinney outlines—is a relative rarity. Therefore, I submit:

Professors in these sorts of classes who want to hear what McKinney THINKS students are actually saying probably—to be colloquial—suck at teaching. In other larger, more impersonal, classes, why the hell should a professor NOT except students to make unreasonable requests? By saying “you don’t have to go/talk/listen/care,” a student hears “see you in december.” Is that OUR fault?

If professors want to solve the Oy-Vey problem, they should make participation and attendance mandatory for every single class, provide a comprehensive anc clear syllabus—complete with paper and test info—at the start of class (which many profs actually don’t), accept letters from student health services in case a student actually does have a mental or physical ailment (which, again, many don’t!), promote and invite students to office hours, and generally be respectful of their students. Are these unreasonable requests? They shouldnt be—and yet, I can count on one hand the number of professors who have totally satisfied these conditions in my 7 semesters in college. Maybe the road to conquering Oy-vey-ism is one upon which profs and students will have to embark together...

Josh, at 1:25 pm EST on December 19, 2005

An academic secret — the $$’s in OYVEYs

Yes, OY’s can consume a lot of mental oxygen.

On the other hand — they also really help pay the bills. They are among the 50% who don’t pass chemistry with a 3.0/B and go to medical school (and who sometimes repeat the class).

“Bottom line:” we still take their tuition money. We could administer a pre-course exams to eliminate the weak performers, encourage them to find different majors, and conserve resources.

But most of us don’t. That would be a lot of work.

B.J., at 4:05 pm EST on December 19, 2005

Thanks

Thanks to Mike Sacken and Underwhelmed for providing notes of sanity to this discussion, as well as to the person who noted that all the whining resembles psych techs complaining that “the lab rats are showing signs of anxiety.” I agree, it is like that, but more like what Underwhelmed added: physicians complaining about all the shamefully sick patients who keep turning up. (Physician, heal thyself.)

another grad student, at 5:49 pm EST on December 19, 2005

Great Idea

Jon-christian suggs, Thanks. You have provided a great suggestion — help students and professors deal with stress, anxiety and anger using the assistance of mental health professionals. It is clear from the responses of some readers, that the way I’ve presented the topic touches on a great deal of anger. Apparently, attempts at humor don’t ease everyone’s stress...I

Mary McKinney, Ph.D., Clinical Psychologist & Academic Coach at http://www.SuccessfulAcademic.com, at 6:33 pm EST on December 19, 2005

The Reactions to this Essay

I find the tendency to overgeneralize, particularly in the negative responses to the piece, very interesting. Yes, the essay seems to have touched some raw nerves.

One aspect of higher education (and often the high school level) that non-teachers seem to forget in their complaint of near-universal apathy towards or disregard of students’ needs is the number of students with whom teachers interact. While—yes—there are certainly some professors who may enjoy a teaching load of two courses per semester, each course consisting perhaps of only 15 students for a total of about 30 students per semester, many college professors interact with far more students each semester.

And yes, some professors teach large lecture classes, with whose 70-400 students their teaching assistants, rather than they, interact. But how many of these classes exist because of an institutional desire for efficiency and cost-cutting or means of graduate financial aid? How many professors actually seek to teach in such a large and impersonal context?

In contrast, in how many colleges and universities—especially smaller colleges and definitely community and “two-year” colleges—do instructors routinely interact with 125-200+ students each semester? (I am a community college professor and am lucky I’m able to learn everybody’s name, face, writing style and a bit of their cognitive style each semester. Except for the occasional student whom I teach in a subsequent course, that means that in one academic year I’m interacting with 250-400 different students.)

One legitimate complaint I see in some of the negative responses is the issue of the humor, which actually shouldn’t be surprising since humor is so relative.

cjo, at 11:59 am EST on December 20, 2005

I too find the Oy Vey title offensive.

Liila Vati, at 4:51 am EST on December 21, 2005

Lighten up, People!

Those offended by the article and title need to lighten up. I enjoyed the article very much after grading many essays, tests, and portfolios and hearing the last minute reasons why work was not submitted. Furthermore, after feeling very weary from the tenure track demands of research, teaching, and service, I appreciated the lift I received from the article. Thanks. Now, as to not offend anyone, everyone have a wonderful “HanuRammaKwanzMas".

David, at 10:28 am EST on December 21, 2005

To each according to his need

In the workplace, if you do not work you do not get paid. It does not matter if your car breaks down, your cat dies, or someone injures your self-esteem. If you do not perform the task that you agreed to perform, you do not receive the money that your boss has agreed to give you in exchange for that work.

The currency in the classroom is grades. If the student does the work assigned, the professor will assign the appropriate grades. If the student doesn’t do the work, the professor will assign an F. If the student cannot complete the work for the course on time, the student should repeat the course.

The real culprit here is the way that education is organized. When instruction and assessment are separated, all of this goes away, especially when there are no deadlines.

Ideally, the student would sit for exams only when he or she feels ready, willing, and able.

How the student prepares for the exam should not matter.

Professors should be in the role of assessing students’ work. This is their area of expertise. Those who accel at teaching, but not at research, should provide primary instruction.

Let the teachers teach and the experts assess. Each is vital to the process of education, and seldom coincident in the same individual.

Then, the OY VEY students can carp to their hearts’ content at the comprehensive exam, and leave the rest of us in peace.

Name Withheld, Dean at Wysocki College, at 3:57 pm EST on December 23, 2005

I, too, used to get upset when students pulled these stunts, until a senior colleague told me the most useful thing I’ve ever learned as a professor: “There’s no point in getting angry, because you never lose these fights.” Since then, when students ask for undeserved special treatment, I respond sympathetically “Yes, I understand. No.” I can’t tell you how much emotional energy this technique saves.

My all-time favorite: a student in a large lecture course told me she needed to take a make up exam, as her family had scheduled a skiing trip for that week. I said, sympathetically, no. She responded “But you don’t understand, I really have to go on this trip.” Me: “I’m not telling you that you can’t go on the trip. I’m telling you that you can’t go on the trip and take my course. Choose one or the other.”

UW Madison Prof, at 2:47 pm EST on December 27, 2005

Children or adults

I never knew what it meant to be an accountable adult until I became an instructor of an undergraduate course. I now find myself saying that I would rather teach junior high students in the midst of their hormonal highs and lows, than teach undergraduates—at least teenagers are somewhat rational. Although I say this jokingly, there is some merit to this proclamation, and I believe that the students who commented on this article will one day find themselves “getting it” when they become educators or managers or bosses.

I think the message that some have missed in this article is the timing of the “Oy Vey” students. It is the last minute, I-just-realized-I’m-failing-even-though-you-sent -me-thousands-of-emails, excuses that really get to us. Having a sense of entitlement or a demand for coddling without putting forth a proactive investment in your own education causes us to write witty articles about how ridiculous students can be.

As a student, you are not entitled to a grade even though you got into such a great university and even though you are paying for the course (ask your parents what they think on the matter given that they most likely are the ones paying for you to sleep in). You are responsible for your schedule, for meeting with the professor often and early if you are concerned about your understanding of the material, and for planning your time to meet deadlines. It is ridiculous to expect or demand after-the-fact understanding when you “discover” you are failing or behind. I would rather have a student say “I have awful time management skills—please help me” after they fail the FIRST exam than try to convince me that they just “didn’t have the time” to complete the assignments by the end of the semester because they are “so busy”. I will always have that student to point to who works 2 jobs, plays a varsity sport, takes an overload of credits, and still meets deadlines. That student would find this article hilarious because they are frustrated by these things too.

Additionally, you also have access to mental health services and disability services, and those are the people who you should go to if you need help. Moreover, if you can not get a handle on your personal needs, you need to speak to the professor on your own behalf before it is impossible to fix things. If a student approaches me early in the semester to discuss personal obstacles that may hinder them from learning, I try to make the necessary adjustments. If they approach me after they have failed everything and right before I turn in grades, it is much more difficult to believe them. Remember, we are not talking about children or teenagers who most definitely need extra coddling and understanding, we are talking about “adults” who are soon to enter the work force. Learning to effectively succeed in life given whatever disability you may have is a part of the educational process, and you are accountable for that learning experience more so than the person teaching you enzymatic reactions.

sftr, at 6:41 pm EST on December 28, 2005

Just trying to give the other perspective

I am grateful for Alisoun’s response to my post, as it allowed me to zero in more specifically on what I find grating about this particular article. It isn’t so much the specific problems the author has with some student requests. Again, I realize quite well that many students ignore their classes and then try to squeeze undeserved grades out of their professors. I know peers of mine who make a habit of doing it in fact. What bothers me is the attitude somewhere between condescension and dismissal that the author displays towards her students (perhaps augmented by the understandable exasperation brought on by the Holiday Season). Many of the requests outlined in the article could be (and indeed often are) made by attentive, intelligent, reasonable students. Example:

“When the student says: What are your office hours?The professor hears: I haven’t even bothered to read your syllabus but I still want you to spoon feed me private tips that will get me a higher grade.”

This may be an appropriate interpretation for some students; however, many others might be motivated by having experienced the frustration of sitting outside a professor’s office for an hour and a half, only to have them never show up at their scheduled time. Personally, after having this happen to me two or three times, I decided I would make sure a professor would actually be at his or her office hours beforehand. I have been vindicated more than once when a professor, on hearing this question, suddenly remembered that they had a conflicting engagement and would not be there.

Everyone, professors included, has lives that sometimes conflict with academic pursuits. Virtually every professor I have had has missed one or two lectures over the course of the semester. This is, of course, entirely reasonable. I as a student I give the professor the benefit of the doubt despite the fact that they have just cancelled, with no make-up date or refund, $200-$300 of my education. I don’t assume that when they say they needed to attend a funeral they were in fact off drinking at the faculty club.

As for some other concerns, of course we, as students, are not paying for grades. The small minority of my peers who take such an attitude infuriate me. We are also, however, not paying merely for the privilege of sitting in a lecture hall while the professor speaks. We are paying to be taught. I fail to see how asking a professor to clarify a reading or explain a confusing point made in lecture during scheduled office hours constitutes asking for “special treatment.”

Again, though, it isn’t really the specifics that bother me. I actually find Ms. McKinney’s estimation that 5% of a class falls into the “oy vey” category rather conservative. It is more the condescending assumption that any student with a special request is an entitled brat (if this is not what the author meant to say, I apologize for the misinterpretation). It is this kind of attitude that, I imagine, would lead someone to respond to a critique by saying its author “[has] no idea what [he] is talking about” without actually responding to a single criticism.

So, to avoid being called a hypocrite: Alisoun, I am well aware that I do not bring a professor’s perspective to the issue. That is precisely why I decided to comment. As a student, I do believe that I have SOME basis to respond to the article, as I represent one half of the student-professor equation. Finally, am not criticizing professors generally or even this author specifically. In fact, the reason that I found this article somewhat upsetting was that it dovetailed significantly with my personal experience. I have found the overwhelming majority of my professors to be engaging, intelligent, earnest, fair and respectful. I wanted to bring a student’s perspective to the discussion because I do not feel that it is helpful to a university environment to have professors and students always assuming the worst about one another.

Matthew, Student at McGill University, at 7:09 pm EST on January 5, 2006

Outstanding work

I just wanted to commend many of you for being so cynical. It leaves me to wonder what your initial motives were at the time you decided to teach. I would rather grant a reprieve to the one student (out of what- 10? 20? students) who genuinely is dealing with illness/death than to antagonize everyone. What is the goal here? My favorite scenario was stopping the student from taking her final early. That would have been devestating to her education.

M.S., Resident physician at Mayo Clinic, at 7:20 pm EST on February 17, 2006

Seeking advice from Mary and all

I am in higher education in an Asian society.

I was bothered by what I read from a student’s blog in a blogring that I came across by chance. The student quoted two lines of an an e-mail message from a faculty(Dr X)to him which contained an ungrounded criticism on me and which ridiculed me. I believe that the quote was genuine, not something manufactured by the student because he was so amused that he quoted the lines to show other members of the blogring.

I wanted to report this to the department Chair but I hesitated because afterall I read the criticsm from a blog. I am afraid that I might embarrass myself by showing the Chair the source of the information — that it’s from a student’s blog — although the blog is publicly accessible. Looking for examples elsewhere as regards how to handle this kinds of cases, I googled but to no avail. Then I typed “how professors deal with students” and it led me to several articles including Mary’s. Mary’s article is interesting and the comments and disucssions insightful, so I thought may be I could write something here to seek advice.I am a female faculty member, more senior in rank than Dr X. Dr X is very popular among students. He and I are no friends, we don’t talk to each other except in official meetings.

I would appreciate your advice. Do you think it is a trivial matter and I should just forget about it? Or does this warrant a report to the Chair?

Someone Seeking Advice, at 11:25 am EDT on May 2, 2006