Teaching Resource Guide

I opened my mailbox today and saw a big brown envelope inside. It was folded so that my address and the return address were facing the back, so I couldn't see who it was from. Of course, I got excited. Who doesn't like getting mail? I reached in expecting something really great...like a present...which I love to get (and give). But instead, I pulled out an official university envelope. Then I thought, oh good, maybe this is finally my health insurance, but no, I won't get that for at least another three weeks (another bedtime story). Instead, I found an 84 page booklet entitled "Teaching Resource Guide" and a teeny little pamphlet called "Teaching Policies and Guidelines for Faculty." Definitely...not...what I was hoping to find.

Once I realized what it was, I stuck it on my desk to look at "later." I had other more important things to do, like read the latest US Weekly; and eventually I needed to get around to my homework. One thing I've learned: grammar exercises never get more interesting or easier. If anything, it's the opposite. I put them off until the next to the last second, because, well, because it's freaking tedious and boring. These textbook authors still use totally out-dated terms like summative modifier. Do you even know what that is? Yeah, I didn't think so. Apparently spell check doesn't either, because it's telling me that what I've typed is not a word. Take note grammar teachers: at least use real words if you're going to lecture me about the correct use of "standard" English.

I finally picked it up about an hour ago. (No, I haven't done my grammar homework, yet.) The "Teaching Resource Guide" is chock full of useless information. Don't get me wrong, there are some nuggets that I might actually refer back to, but for the most part it's a gigantic waste of a tree. One of my favorite sections: instructions for the first day of class. Yes, apparently these people think we're such delinquents that we need step-by-step directions on what we should and should not be doing during the first session. Shockingly, we should not ask our students personal questions, like what's their religion, their sexual preference, how much they weigh, their ethnic background, etc. Well, shit, there goes my first twenty minutes of class. I mean, seriously, is this necessary? Do you really want someone who needs to be told that these are inappropriate questions teaching anything?

The "safe" topics include their majors, their class (as in Freshman, not economic or slut-factor), where they are from and what they hope to learn in the class. I won't remember the answers to the first three questions, and regardless of what they say, the answer to the last is "whatever I need to pass." But, whatever, I'll play along, pretend I care, that I'll remember, and that I can't find out this information through the various "Big Brother" sources available to me as university faculty.

My favorite bullet point under "The First Class Session" section is the first one: "Adopt the demeanor of a teacher and resist undue familiarity." It's the only statement that stands alone without explanation, and probably the one that actually could use a little more detail. (There's an entire paragraph on going over the syllabus, and come on, how hard is that? Anyone who's taken a college class, much less in graduate school could do that in their sleep.)

Perhaps the second bullet point is meant to go along with the first, because I'm instructed to "stage an entrance." Here I thought I was teaching a writing class, but apparently I'm also responsible for theatrics. I wonder if David Copperfield is available to help me come up with a grand entrance. I'm thinking a fog machine, disco ball and pyrotechnics with some old school Michael Jackson playing...maybe Thriller...but I'm open to suggestions.