It’s time for the semiannual faculty meeting
at Snowflake College, a perfunctory affair held each semester the week before
classes begin. The agenda never changes:
Although most of the folks in the room are returning faculty, the meeting is a
review of basic administrative procedures, library hours, operating the
classroom audiovisual equipment, etc.
The main draw for me is that 1) It’s a paid
training, and 2) The college provides dinner.
Three hours’ pay and free food? Just for sitting and listening? I’m there, dude! I don’t care how many times I’ve heard this
stuff.
As the sign-in sheet is passed around, Dean Kimpossible
outlines the evening’s program. She
introduces the new faculty and the courses they’ll be teaching, offerings which
afford our students opportunities for personal growth to augment such perennial
favorites as Eidetic Portrait Painting, Indonesian Tribal Dance, and Tantric
Navel Gazing. Kimpossible solemnly
reminds us it’s precisely this sort of curriculum that makes Snowflake College
uniquely suited to educating a new, more discerning generation of students.
Kimpossible recognizes a few of the returning
faculty, most notably Professor Duckie, the Most Popular Faculty Member at
Snowflake. A twentysomething only in his
third year teaching, Duckie is beloved by faculty, staff, and students
alike. Rumor has it he’s gotten more
chili peppers on Rate My Professors.com than any other prof at Snowflake, ever. He invites his students to send him friend
requests on Facebook. He’s agreeable and
apparently charismatic which of course gives everything he says added
weight. The fact that you could wade
through his deepest thoughts and not get your ankles wet is something that
seems to have escaped almost everyone in the room, which goes to show that cultivated
superficiality will get you far even in academia.
After sitting through several pro forma presentations by our
colleagues, the dean shifts the topic to academics. Kimpossible’s teaching philosophy is informed
by her recruitment brochure vision for Snowflake: Carefree youth in dreadlocks
and tie dye playing hackeysack on the front lawn before traipsing off to tatami
mat weaving class. And so we’ve now
reached that point in the evening’s proceedings where Kimpossible takes a
moment to share her views. We raise our metaphorical
paper cups and prepare to drink the rhetorical Kool-Aid:
“Our students are
‘digital natives.’” (Translation: They’re adept at texting and updating their
Facebook pages in class, and yet somehow can’t figure out how to access the
course’s online content.)
“Our students don’t
want to be lectured. They are ‘knowledge
explorers,’ and your job is to be their guide.”
(They want to do the least amount of work for the highest possible
grade. Your job is to be engaging and
entertaining.)
“Our students are
idealistic.” (Ideally, they would spend
all their time on the ski run while Daddy and Mommy pay their bills.)
“Our students have
a different orientation toward work than our generation.” (They don’t like it.)
“Our students know
what they want and live by their values.”
(They have an exaggerated sense of entitlement and will angrily confront
anyone who challenges it. And that
includes you, my dear professor.)
At this point Kimpossible pauses a beat, then
delivers the punch line:
“Of course, you are responsible for
maintaining Snowflake College’s high academic standards.”
Ay, there’s the rub! Since our students’ exceptionalism is axiomatic,
standards are pretty much moot. I’d like
someday to walk into my classroom and not feel like I’m in that Twilight Zone episode about the bratty kid
who banishes the grownups he doesn’t like to the cornfield.
Wait, we’re not quite finished yet. Kimpossible closes the proceedings by
reminding us why we’re all here. She reads
us an email from a student who recently transferred to Big State University:
“Hey,
Kimpossible!
“Just
wanted to tell you how I’m doing now that I’m at Big State.
“The teachers here
don’t care about students. They’re not
cool like at Snowflake.
“They expect me to
come to class and do homework and stuff. This jerkwad professor wouldn’t let me make up an exam even though there
was six inches of fresh powder on the slopes and I had to go snowboarding that
day.
“It totally sucks here!”
Kimpossible pauses dramatically to make sure the
full meaning of this travesty sinks in.
“‘It…sucks…here!’” she intones slowly. “Always remember how special it is at
Snowflake. I’m proud we can provide such
a nurturing environment…and I’m thankful we have such students!”
And with that, we’re dismissed for the
evening. Welcome to another semester at
Snowflake College!
© 2012 The Unassuming Scholar
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