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Sep. 1st, 2004 02:45 pmThe class I'm GTA for this semester meets on Tuesday and Thursday mornings. There's Dragon Lady, the professor; Macho, my fellow male TA, and Newbie, the female TA. We have roundabouts 225 students, and I'm grading more than my fellow TAs because they also work in the scene shop at the theatre.
On Tuesday we went over the syllabus and Dragon Lady said all the usual things -- must be here for mandatory role call on ten specific days marked on your calendar, must turn in papers on time, must turn off cellphones and other beepy-type equipment while in class. She also explained her simple but effective plan for encouraging regular attendance -- she gives two in-class writing assignments on random days, each worth a very easy 25 points. If you miss both assignments, you cannot get an A in the class. It's just that easy.
What the students don't know is that of course the in-class writing days are picked ahead of time -- she assigns them on the day after they're supposed to have read a required play for the class, one early in the semester and one later on. Which also, handily, ensures that they read the play. Of course it leads to a lot of in-class papers that are chock full of interesting bullshit, but it gives us a good laugh while grading.
On Tuesday I had a young man fitting one of the Intro To Theatre Stock Types: charming but dimwitted stoner boy. (Intriguingly, charming but dimwitted stoner girl is not a stock type. If this were a gender studies class I might bring that up).
"I had a question," he said.
"All right, I probably have an answer," I replied. He looked at me strangely.
"Uh, whanimizonursy?"
Perhaps incorrectly translating this as What did I miss on Thursday? I told him "You didn't miss anything."
"Oh. No, like, assignments?"
Surely the boy hadn't napped through the whole class. He did have a syllabus in his hand.
"There were no assignments on Thursday."
"Oh good."
"Because class didn't start until today," I added helpfully. He looked baffled again, then quickly recovered.
"Oh man, no, like, I meant, what'm'I gunna miss?"
By now, Newbie, who had been listening in from behind him, was making puzzled faces at me; clearly she was confused as well.
"This Thursday?" I clarified.
"Yeah, totally."
"You're going to be absent on the second day of class?" I asked. Admittedly, understanding the fragile ego of the underclassman, I toned my incredulity down from 'The car repair's going to cost how much?' to 'you're not going to eat that perfectly good banana?'
"Yeah like, that random writing thing, that's nogunnappen?"
"Not on the second day of class, no," I replied. He gave me a charming if dimwitted smile, adjusted his baseball cap, and went on his merry way.
"Do you think he was high?" Newbie asked me, when he'd gone.
"I hope to god so," I replied.
The devout hope that our students are stoned out of their minds when they speak to us is not an unfamiliar sensation to the common garden GTA.
On Tuesday we went over the syllabus and Dragon Lady said all the usual things -- must be here for mandatory role call on ten specific days marked on your calendar, must turn in papers on time, must turn off cellphones and other beepy-type equipment while in class. She also explained her simple but effective plan for encouraging regular attendance -- she gives two in-class writing assignments on random days, each worth a very easy 25 points. If you miss both assignments, you cannot get an A in the class. It's just that easy.
What the students don't know is that of course the in-class writing days are picked ahead of time -- she assigns them on the day after they're supposed to have read a required play for the class, one early in the semester and one later on. Which also, handily, ensures that they read the play. Of course it leads to a lot of in-class papers that are chock full of interesting bullshit, but it gives us a good laugh while grading.
On Tuesday I had a young man fitting one of the Intro To Theatre Stock Types: charming but dimwitted stoner boy. (Intriguingly, charming but dimwitted stoner girl is not a stock type. If this were a gender studies class I might bring that up).
"I had a question," he said.
"All right, I probably have an answer," I replied. He looked at me strangely.
"Uh, whanimizonursy?"
Perhaps incorrectly translating this as What did I miss on Thursday? I told him "You didn't miss anything."
"Oh. No, like, assignments?"
Surely the boy hadn't napped through the whole class. He did have a syllabus in his hand.
"There were no assignments on Thursday."
"Oh good."
"Because class didn't start until today," I added helpfully. He looked baffled again, then quickly recovered.
"Oh man, no, like, I meant, what'm'I gunna miss?"
By now, Newbie, who had been listening in from behind him, was making puzzled faces at me; clearly she was confused as well.
"This Thursday?" I clarified.
"Yeah, totally."
"You're going to be absent on the second day of class?" I asked. Admittedly, understanding the fragile ego of the underclassman, I toned my incredulity down from 'The car repair's going to cost how much?' to 'you're not going to eat that perfectly good banana?'
"Yeah like, that random writing thing, that's nogunnappen?"
"Not on the second day of class, no," I replied. He gave me a charming if dimwitted smile, adjusted his baseball cap, and went on his merry way.
"Do you think he was high?" Newbie asked me, when he'd gone.
"I hope to god so," I replied.
The devout hope that our students are stoned out of their minds when they speak to us is not an unfamiliar sensation to the common garden GTA.
