The Aftermath

I met with my students yesterday out in the hall, outside my classroom as I always do.  As I always am, I'm surprised people stay.  This is why:  I call people in order of achievement, highest to lowest.  The lowest performing student sometimes has to wait two hours to talk to me.  Why would he or she wait that long when he or she could simply walk out the door and check their grade online?  Connection.  They want the human connection, so they wait.

12 of my students exempted themselves from the final exam.  They did it, not me, for they did the excellent work.  I love meeting with those students because I get to expound on all of their good traits, make academic suggestions, and chat person-to-person.

On the other hand, four students have grades that are so low that even if they ace the final exam they will not pass the class.  Showing them their statistics for their work doesn't phase them; they want a miracle, and they don't understand why I just won't give it to them.  I plug in a 100% in the final exam slot; then I show them their final grade.  They seem surprised that it is still below 70%.  "It's a math problem now," I explain, and I know they are thinking, "You are an English teacher.  You must've made a mistake."  My silent voice tells their silent voice, "You could've combined those sentences into a complex sentence, and that really is the crux of the matter here."  I wish them the best, recommend that they re-take the placement test, and watch them throw away all the work I just returned to them.  

I am a teacher of students, and my students don't always hear me the day that I teach them.  Sometimes, they hear me years later; then they listen.  Sometimes, they never do, but they've at least met someone who expects excellent work and knows that excellent work resides within them.