One-Minute Papers

The class I'm taking this summer is basically a prep course to tell us what we need to know to successfully teach first-year writing. For the last two weeks of the semester our class is divided into two sections. The first half is our "normal" class. The second half, all incoming TAs join us for our orientation. The powers-that-be decided that this year they'd break it up, rather than make us sit through an eight hour session. Though this is a nice change, I still have to sit through an eight hour session of orientation run by The Graduate School. It's not required but strongly recommended. Giving me an out is not a good idea, because 99 times out of 100...I'll take it and run. If it were really necessary, wouldn't it be required?

So, back to class...

On Tuesday, after we had our first two hours of orientation, the director of the program hands us all a sheet of paper and asks us to write down any questions or comments we have. This was done anonymously to encourage honesty. I believe I wrote one sentence: is this really necessary? Well, the answer to that turned out to be yes.

Cut to the beginning of orientation on Thursday, when the director passes out a seven page, single-spaced, typed document with a list of questions from our one-minute papers with multi-paragraph answers. It takes about 30 seconds of paging through the document for me to discover that apparently not having to sign your name also encourages stupidity: some of the questions were ridiculous. Surprisingly enough, mine was nowhere to be found.

Remember that lovely teaching resource guide that I got in the mail? Well apparently no one else took the time to look at it, because most of the questions were answered in it, too. Yes, another big waste of a tree. And believe it or not, people actually wanted to know what we are supposed to do the first day of class. No, I'm not kidding. It seems several people asked this question. It's as if they've never taken a college class before. Every first class regardless of subject always starts off the same way. The teacher introduces him/herself. Then goes around the room and gives the students the chance to do the same, often with instructions about what specific information to provide. (We talked about this before...it's where those inappropriate questions come in.) Then the teacher goes through the syllabus, focusing on course objectives and course policies. And then, if you're lucky, the teacher let's you go early. There might be some variation, but generally speaking: this is the way it goes. It's easy and straightforward, but apparently not for everyone.

People also asked what they should wear to class. Well, clothes is a good start. (Yes, I'm a smart ass.) I read this question, and literally laughed out loud. It doesn't really matter what you wear...what matters is how you present yourself. This isn't a job on Wall Street, but we're not working at Taco Bell either. You wear what you're comfortable in. If that's a suit then go for it, but be prepared for merciless ridicule by your students outside of class. There's nothing worse than a TA that takes him/herself too seriously. I can picture some of them now...planning their outfits for the first week, something I haven't done in twenty years.

The fact that my classmates need clarification on this subject is slightly disturbing. If they don't have enough commonsense to figure out what is appropriate attire or that the first day of class is for introductions and going over the syllabus, then how in the hell are they going to deal with cheaters, back-talkers, skippers, plagiarizers, and liars? Asking the program coordinator what to do isn't really an option when you're in the middle of class. Having her hold your hand through your first week of class is really going to mess with your attempt to establish ethos by wearing suits all the time. (There will be more on ethos at a later date, because it's a term I hear at least 20 times per class. I'm past the point of cringing, but I still roll my eyes. Don't get me wrong, it's important, but the way we talk about it makes it seem like the holy grail.)

Anyway...people keep asking me if I'm nervous about teaching. The funny thing is that the longer I'm in this class, the less nervous I become. Probably because I'm surrounded my people freaking out about what to wear and attendance policies. Being in a classroom of nervous nellies who will undoubtedly attempt to plan everything down to the smallest detail has erased any anxiety I had. Maybe it's because I've realized something they have yet to discover: you can plan as much as you want, but things never go as anticipated. Some of them will discover that sooner then others. I only wish I could be a fly on the wall when the shit hits the fan, and they think it's happened because today was the day they wore ripped jeans.