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How Not To Be “That Student”: Five Things Your Professor Can’t Tell You

August 11, 2010

I once heard a prof claim that he was “too busy” to notice what students were like, let alone indulge in gossip. Yeah, okay, talk about protesting too much. When I was professoring we talked about students all the time: which ones were sweet, which ones were awful, which ones were cute, which ones dressed like hoochie mamas or wanna-be gangstas, which ones were sociopaths, which ones were just dicking around, which ones were flirting, dating, and/or getting it on — hell, I knew a prof (not me, I swear) who would play matchmaker during group work, putting single students together for entertainment.

The point being, profs always talk about students. But sometimes it’s bitching and eye-rolling, and sometimes it’s saying “Aw, what a great student.” If you’d prefer to be in the latter category, here are five things to keep in mind.

1) You are not the center of my universe.

Look, every human being thinks they’re the center of the universe at some level. But count the other students in the class. Now multiply that by all the other classes I’m teaching, and don’t forget to add in time for grading. Now figure that teaching is only one-third of my job, because I also have research and administration. Now do the math to calculate exactly how much of my universe you make up. (Hint: this percentage should be very small.)

Reese Witherspoon as Tracy Flick

Oh, sure, they look cute -- but high-maintenance students are the bane of professorial existence.

Profs are not genies who poof into existence merely to serve you, personally, in the classroom. They have other stuff to do — a lot of it. And at the university level, don’t assume students come first, because profs don’t get tenure for teaching.

2) I’m your manager, not your mom.

People need to get over the idea that college teaching is a “caring” profession, and fast. This is a professional relationship between adults, not the goddamn Brady Bunch. So let’s keep things appropriately distant. Let me know you’re not going to be in class, but don’t expect me to care about the gory details.  And don’t come in the next day with a sob story, whining about “forgiveness” (translation: an extension, better grade, etc.). A good question to ask yourself is, Would you do this to a boss?

Ryan Reynolds as Van Wilder

If you choose to skip class, we don't need the details unless you're a) as interesting as Van Wilder and b) as hot as Ryan Reynolds.

Note: it is true that over time teacher/student relationships can grow into something more like friendship — but don’t assume that’s what you’ve got in the first place. You have to earn it.

3) You don’t “have” stuff, you choose it.

I remember a time when people distinguished between actual emergencies — i.e things that happened outside their control — and free-will-type decisions. That line has completely eroded, and at this point profs have to write out ridiculous numbers of rules if they want to enforce what used to be common-sense work etiquette.

Bruce Campbell in the Evil Dead

THIS is an emergency.

Here’s one of my biggest pet peeves. Suzy Snowflake walks up and tells me that she “has” an interview (or an appointment or a haircut or a makeover) on the day of the test next week. Well, Suzy, I think what you mean to say is that you have chosen to schedule this thing at the exact same time as the test, which you’ve known about for two months, and that is your choice to make because that’s what life is about. But no extension, no make-up, no exceptions — just like it says on the syllabus.

Hangover still

This is not.

FYI, this is not because I’m a bitch, it’s because rescheduling anything creates administrative hassle for me and other people, not to mention the whole cheating issue, not to mention where on earth did you get the idea that you’re so special you deserve an exception, Snowflake, and what do you think would happen all of my fifty/ hundred/ two hundred students felt this way?

4) Just because I’m not calling you on something, don’t assume I’m an idiot.

Students think we don’t notice a lot of stuff, probably because we’re too tired to yell. But just a few notes:

If you’re texting/doing the crossword/Facebooking in class, I can totally tell. Ditto if your class participation consists of repeating what you read on Wikipedia/in the intro to the textbook I assigned. Oh, I’ll nod and smile encouragingly, but mentally I’m marking you down as a scammer and plagiarism risk. And yes, I know all about paper mills and frat banks of tests and online notes services and you’re certainly welcome to use them, if you’re really sure I’m too worn down to do anything about it. But if you get caught, you’d better take it like a man because it was your decision to cheat. Oh, yeah, and that stuff you plagiarized from the internet? I bet I can find quicker than you did — did I mention I do research for a living?

Still from Old School: Guys taking the Test

Are you really this good? Or just feeling lucky?

5) Don’t assume you know more than me.

If you can’t remember the exact dates of the Peloponnesian War, on demand, at a given moment, some students think you don’t know your stuff, or worse yet, that they’re better at Greek history than you are. In the first place, profs are distracted as hell (see #1) and under an immense amount of pressure — try remembering anything in that position. In the second place, knowing random trivia doesn’t mean you know jack about doing history (or philosophy, or whatever).  In the third place, since you’re so darned detail-oriented, expect me to return the favor: I will take the utmost care in grading your future assignments, doing the most thorough job possible, lest I miss any opportunity to help you know your stuff better by pointing out your deficiencies. Especially if you’ve corrected me in front of the class.

Revenge of the Nerds Still

Know-it-all "A" students are also high-maintenance. Give me a chill "B" any day.

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36 Responses
  1. Ah, the difficult student.

    In some respects, I’d qualify as one. I am not bothered by The Prof’s factual mistakes, because I know these happen. But I do mind glib sweeping statements and ask questions – and pursue the answers if I think they are deficient (as is often the case). I also fidget, stretch and write notes to my classmates. I do all those things precisely when profoundly engaged. If I am not engaged, I look like a perfect goody-goody. I’ve also attended classes while in a migraine bout – my profs figured out fast that the 5-min. naps made me much more functional in the in-between times.

    But truly difficult students exist, and in my experience, they are those with egos bigger than any of their desired pursuits. So they react at the slightest perceived offense, and engaging them on a meanigful level is very hard.

    • Napping students were some of my favorites as they were extremely low-maintenance.

      • That was not my profs’ first response – my Classics classes were small, and interaction was the key (and I was a big interactor).

        I do wake up my napping students to ascertain the cause of their napping. It’s really easy to do so in a way that ties it up to the discussion, and because I am not upset or anything, festivities ensue. But I’ve been in classes where the prof thinks napping slights him/her (a grossly erroneous assumption, since the students who truly want to slight you never nap).

  2. athenapearl says:

    I have to confess to one of those ‘centre of the universe’ moments, when, my senior year, no professor in my department had time to advise my dissertation (not that it was crazy, they just weren’t available). My academic advisor had been no help, nor my department (which, I mistakenly assumed would have had a list or something of available people). One professor finally said yes, only to back out claiming I misunderstood his agreement–he didn’t have time as he was writing a book. It wasn’t the book writing that peeved me, I understood, but it was the backing out after saying yes. It was all aggrevating, and I ended up not being able to do a dissertation.

    • I’m sorry to hear that you couldn’t do your diss, and “backing out syndrome” is really frustrating. Academia tends to attract and/or produce extreme narcissists who truly believe that whatever they’re doing is more important than anything else in the universe, including previous commitments. Not OK.

      Unfortunately, it’s true that book-writing is the most important thing for profs who want to keep their jobs. This is why, no matter what anyone says, there is just no way students are going to be the first priority given the current system. Personally, I think it does nothing but produce really bad books. But that’s part of why I have this blog. I want people to understand what’s going on, and yes, get ticked off!

      • athenapearl says:

        I totally get it, believe me. I just didn’t like his flakiness. As a slap to the face (of sorts), his book was well received :) .

  3. Vicki says:

    I’ve also had a “center of the universe moment,” in one of my environmental classes. We were doing a field study and were supposed to take our field samples back into the class for the instructors to test. I had done that, but I found out the day before my presentation was due that they had not tested it.

    I talked to my professor about it, and he says that I should have checked in to see if it was being taken care of, and I agree to a point. But I also feel like that I was trusting him to do something he would do, but he didn’t. It’s not like I was the only person with a sample either. Everyone had their samples tested, except mine.

    The fact that a sample went untested was brought up in class, and he told us all the Copernicus rule: “The world revolves around the sun, and not around anybody else.” Lesson learned!

    • Huh, I’d have to say this is more of a competence/”buck stops here” issue — I mean, if you brought it in, why wasn’t your sample tested? And if the instructor was supposed to test it and didn’t, that’s something the prof should have chewed him/her out about, not you, unless “checking in” was an explicit part of the assignment. Then again, the world is filled with incompetence, and it is an unfortunate but good life lesson that you often have to check up on people if you want them to do their jobs…

  4. I once took a class with a very intense prof – she was excellent but her MO was to put you on the spot. I didn’t mind it but others did, as a result of which the class was extremely tense. So, I write in her evaluation that this was a great class and that if she approached students a little more gently, her class would be superb. In the months that followed she turned extremely hostile to me, and I didn’t know why, so I went to ask her. And she says I hated her because I wrote this evaluation, so she hated me back. I had to laugh; we parted on more friendly terms but she was definitely an ego-challenged prof. WTF.

  5. Erin says:

    My very worst “center of the universe” moment involved me bursting into tears on one of my professors during her office hours. In my defense, I was trying to talk to her about something completely legit (term-paper-topic-approval) and she mentioned that my work wasn’t as good as in previous semesters, which is when I explained that my parents were getting divorced (cue the tears) and it was really distracting.

    She was a great lady, and we were on “friend” level, since I’d taken 6 of her classes over 5 semesters, but I wouldn’t have wished that on anyone.

    • That doesn’t sound so much like a center of the universe moment as a human moment. I mean, stuff happens, and I’ve never taken it amiss if a student is having a hard time. I’m kind of hoping her intentions were actually good — as in asking what was up because she was concerned and not just chewing you out?

  6. quoded says:

    I’ll admit that I do sometimes ask professors to clarify when they say something that contradicts the reading or previous learning — not to call them out or because I care if they mess up a fact (who doesn’t) but because if what they said was intentional I want to know why. My education is more important to me than a professor’s ego, and in most cases professors are not receptive to questions outside of class time (even during scheduled office hours). That being said, yes, the know-it-all fact-checker student is obnoxious. I’m a grad student and at my school I have to do a lot of assistant teaching, so I know somewhat of what you speak.

    But I definitely agree with the workplace ethics part. Other grad students are constantly turning work in late and griping when they don’t get full credit, or missing classes and griping when their grades are slashed. I forgot one problem set last semester and fell enormously embarrassed to ask the professor for partial credit….

    • Asking for clarification is totally fine, as is pointing out an error — though preferably after class, and with an attitude of friendly helpfulness not nasty SOB-ness. It’s not only about ego, IMHO, it’s about the golden rule: if you made a mistake in front of an audience, how would you want to be corrected? And no, profs aren’t receptive to students bothering them at any point (cf. #1), but that’s just the name of the game. Profs have to prioritize their time, and students — whether grad or otherwise — just don’t come first. Research does, and that means students have to actively lobby for attention. Not fair, but true.

  7. Average Girl says:

    Loved this behind-the-scenes glimpse! I was a good student, but an “excuses” student. I’m certain my professors were #4, “not calling me out” on my many (many) illnesses that rendered me incapable of turning in some of my assignments on time.
    Sick, rotten luck o’ mine…

  8. OK I feel obliged to tell all of you that you’re proving another teaching rule: the students who need the advice never listen to it, and the ones who don’t need it worry too much about it. I’m betting that all of you who commented were fine, and weren’t unbearable. And the people who are were unbearable won’t realize it, and will continue to be blissfully unaware…such is the way of the world.

    • Erin says:

      I can think of at least a few obnoxious moments on my part, but on the whole, I think I was a good (albeit lazy) student.

      I was definitely late with or skipped a lot of assignments, but I also just took the consequences instead of whining and coming up with excuses, so I think I’m still fine…

      • Yup, I never minded the lateness as long as there was no whining or asking for favors. And I was an underachieving undergraduate too, which is perhaps why I’m partial to them.

  9. Tundra says:

    I’ve actually found that around here teachers actually want to know the gorey details for why you’re not there. “I won’t be there” is enough to get you failed out of the course, if you say that and have a certificate, you’ll be allowed to stay, but if you say “I won’t be there because I have really bad flu/my whoever just died” you’re much more likely to be offered their notes and extensions on assignments.

    • Well, you’ll note I didn’t say any of these absences would be excused — this is why I forbade my students to tell me random crap. Unless they had actual proof of an emergency, I didn’t care what their excuse was. Eventually, my school adopted a policy where students had to provide the proof to the Dean of Students because otherwise you give an inch and they take a mile, make up dead grandmothers, and still whine incessantly about your absence policy! Part of the whole “where’s the work etiquette?” problem.

  10. This is great… I know I mentioned to you I work at a university… on the staff side… but I am teaching my first college level class this fall. This helps a lot I might be referencing this during my class.
    We see a lot of entitlement too. It is crazy but seems to be the way of todays youth.

  11. Lovely article. I’m glad you’re using your wisdom for the next generation of frustrated academics.

    I’m an adjunct English instructor just out of graduate school, so I’m seeing both sides: the frustrated students and more-frustrated teachers. I hemmed and hawed so much on my graduate thesis that I almost didn’t finish. Not that my excuses weren’t viable, but I can see now, from the teacher’s perspective, that it’s tiresome. Especially when it comes to late assignments or plagiarism!

  12. whatthewhat2012 says:

    I love this blog, but reading this post freaks me out! I am definitely a type A person, so I really worry that I rely too much on my profs’ help and encouragement. Thank you for the helpful tips though!

  13. whatthewhat2012 says:

    P.S.

    I idolize Tina Fey and obsess over all things comedic, so please keep writing!

  14. Eileen says:

    I read this before I graduated and IMMEDIATELY tried to forget it because I found myself not wanting to “bother” my favorite professor by scheduling a meeting outside her office hours (naturally, I had another class during them). And that was silly because a) I needed her to clear my paper topic and b) I’d known her a few years, and she either really liked talking to me or was extraordinarily good at pretending she did.

    But now that I’m done with school I can appreciate its awesomeness fully and enjoy it more-or-less guilt-free.

    • wopro says:

      I think I’ve said this before, but if you’re worried about being a bother, then you probably aren’t one. It’s only the students who never think about anyone else’s time that are a problem!

  15. Relentlessly Socratic says:

    I only wish I could somehow slip this post to my classes.

    I have people asking me for syllabi for classes that haven’t started yet and for my grading rubric (!!). I’m still puzzling out how to e-mail “WTF, I haven’t even written the syllabus, and why are you so special anyway??” without getting myself fired.

    • wopro says:

      I’d suggest just ignoring them till they go away, and making sure the autoresponder is on right up until the first day of classes — preferably with a passive-aggressive message about how you’re not actually paid to be “on call”.

      • Relentlessly Socratic says:

        hey, that’s a good one, particularly since I’m “off contract” (but still working, oh yes, still working….summers off–my plump, unexercised, pale butt!)

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