Come the Supplicants, Seeking Favor

It’s the end of the first quarter and I am like a little god. The villagers, in their time of need, have rediscovered my shrine; they have cleaned it of seven weeks overgrowth and re-consecrated it with murmured flatteries.

I grant grades.

Or at least they believe so. It is difficult weaning the masses off blind faith and onto personal responsibility. They BELIEVE that somehow everything will be fine with just a little prayer and maybe a quick “extra credit” project. How, after all, can I really fail them? If I do, or don’t allow them an extra day to turn in late work, they can always tell their secular rulers that their little god is weak. The shifting of responsibility away from oneself and onto others, earthly or otherwise, seems to be something we are born with.

The most insistent worshipers are those who ignored my dialectical journal and vocabulary assignments for five weeks and are failing as a result. These poor souls want to know if they can “do something” to get their grade up. I tell them that since I am more forgiving than many of the other minor deities in the building, I will grant them the right to present me with all five weeks of completed work before I close the grade books. Many are appalled that I would require such a thing. “But Mr. Rice, that’s going to take me forever.” I provide my standard response, delivered with the appropriate gravity, “It will take time, probably the same amount of time it would have taken you had you done the work over the last five weeks except now you will have to do it in only a few days. Furthermore, because you will not be getting the same academic benefit you would have received by doing the work in stages and getting my feedback after each stage, I will be deducting points. The points I deduct will be based on your level of engagement with the text and how hard you work to address all of the requirements. If you submit sloppy, poorly executed work, you will receive a significant mark down. I will deduct fewer points for lateness if you submit carefully crafted and insightful work.”

No sick or lame animals on my altar, only the fatted calf will do.

Some students return the next day proud and tired. “I worked all night on this.” I have a a few of responses based on my mood. The knee-jerk response is what you might expect: “Thank you, but had you done this over the time allotted you would have gotten more sleep last night.” Sometimes I snap back, “Great, now you need to apologize to my wife and daughters for taking me away from them to grade your work in one large piece. You realize that you stayed up all night doing one series of these while I have dozens of students’ work just like your's to grade. How late will I be up because of your inefficiency?”

My favorite response was to a student who never does classwork or homework. He complains constantly and repeatedly tells me I should extend my due dates to accommodate him because, as he says, “I can’t help it if I’m a procrastinator.”

This young man came to me for some help as part of an exercise he was doing in another class. The students in this other class were being required to build a portfolio with a set of educational and career goals, a resume, and a letter of recommendation. He came to me the day before it was due and said, “Hey, Mr. Rice, will you write me a letter of recommendation?”

“When is it due?” I asked, although my god-like powers allowed me to already “perceive” the answer.

“Uh, tomorrow morning.”

“Great,” I said, “How long does it take you to get me what I asked you to provide? Did you turn in your first dialectical journal assignment yet?”

“Yeah, I turned it in this week.”

“So how long did I wait for it?

“Five weeks.”

“OK, I’ll get your letter of recommendation back to you in five weeks.”

This little god is a forgiving god but one with a feel for irony. I gave the letter to him the next day but I wonder if he is familiar with the phrase, “damning with faint praise.”

Spring break begins next week. The weeds will begin to grow again around my shrine and I will be neglected and forgotten until May. Perhaps I shall enjoy the solitude.