What Are They Teaching These Kids Nowadays?

I thought the "wise fool" stage wasn't until sophomore year...I guess I was wrong. I love how little patience I have with freshmen these days--it makes me pray fervently that I was never that idiotic. I know that freshman year is scary and bewildering and all that. Trust me, I've been there, had the meltdowns, and learned from them. But hopefully I was never so outright disrespectful!

On Monday I was sitting in the library, minding my own business until it was time to go to class. I believe I was trying to work on that darn problematic chapter of my story that positively REFUSES to listen to me and cooperate. Anyway, the library here at Crichton is pretty small, so you can hear everybody's conversations (that gets pretty interesting sometimes). On the table over from me, I could hear one freshman trying to help another with his English paper. Now, the helpee was a freshman that I had already helped on Friday with this very same paper, so I wondered a little at why he sounded so desperate...not to mention the fact that a fellow freshman tutor was probably not the ideal situation. Of course, the helpee is in the library A LOT for tutoring. He's one of those types that needs a good deal of handholding. If he had his way, the tutors would probably write his papers for him. Thankfully, by this point in our academic careers most of us have seen it all, so we can dodge such desires fairly handily. Still, I had my reputation to uphold, and, regrettably, I care about people. So I leaned over casually and asked if they needed any help. 

The helper looked up and smiled and said, holding up the paper as evidence, "His paper is due at eleven today, and this is all he has." I looked at the sheet with handwriting on it and said suspiciously to the helpee, "Isn't that the bit I helped you write on Friday?" He looked pained and replied, "Yes. I tried, I really tried, but I just couldn't get it." I resisted the urge to bang my head on the table (I had helped him write his entire introductory paragraph, thesis statement and all! How difficult is it to write your paper after that? You have your three points, you know what you're talking about, good luck, go! GAH!) and then returned to my business. If the helpee freshman thought that the helper freshman could be of greatest assistance, more power to them. 

However, it was impossible not to hear this impromptu tutoring session, and I got irritated as I heard the helper freshman repeatedly refer to Dr. Jenkins as "Mr. Jenkins." Let me remark here that Dr. Jenkins is one of my favorite professors at this miserable school, and I respect him highly. 

The first time the freshman did this, therefore, I spoke up and said, "Dr. Jenkins" as a mild correction. I was ignored. Fine, whatever, my self-esteem isn't so low that I need to be acknowledged. Still, a few minutes later, I heard "Mr. Jenkins" again. Now I get irritated. "Dr. Jenkins," I corrected again. "He's your professor, and he deserves your respect."

 The freshman replied, "Well, I don't really believe in calling anybody who isn't a medical doctor 'Dr.' It just seems wrong."

Oh, thank you, Masterful Freshman Sage of the Universe! How did we ever live until you came down from heaven in order to show us the true nature of humanity and manners? I just, I just don't know how I made it through these past twenty years without you!

I bristled and said cuttingly, "It takes longer to earn your doctorate of literature than it does to become a medical doctor. (I left out residency for the purpose of reprisal--he probably had no idea how long it really took to become a medical doctor anyway. I merely exploited his ignorance. That's what happens when you're ignorant. Hee, hee.) Besides," I continued, "he is your professor and he has been placed in a position of authority over you." What I didn't add, but probably should have, was, "Quite frankly, I don't give a care what you believe--things like that go out the window in the real world. There are rules and manners, and you would do well to abide by them."

He started waffling on and on illogical nonsense about what he believed. Fah. I had to escape into Jamie's office (my boss) in order to keep from exploding. He took one look at me and asked if I needed a sanity break--I have the best boss in the world.

I don't have a problem with freshmen that genuinely don't know what they're doing. Heaven knows I certainly didn't get the whole college thing until my sophomore year. (That's when I learned that, yeah, actually reading your books is quite helpful...never said I was brilliant.) It's the ones that are insufferable know-it-alls that really burn my butt. 

If you're a freshman, here's my advice: Keep your mouth shut, your eyes open, and abide by your syllabus. Those three things will do more to endear you to your professors and prevent moronic mistakes than anything else possibly can. May the Force be with you--you're gonna need it.