I Couldn't Make This Shit Up
People don't believe me when I tell them about what bottomless pits of entitlement my students can be. This should help my case:
Earlier in the week, I asked the class for a volunteer to share their notes with a student in the class who is disabled and whose crippled hands prevent notetaking. I mentioned that an ideal volunteer would be someone who takes notes on a laptop, so that the notes could simply be emailed.
This afternoon I got an email from a student asking if he could "be on the list of people who get typed lecture notes sent to them."
Insensitive much?? Where do you even begin to say what's wrong with that?
Spend 20 years in that kid's wheelchair, and then maybe you can get on the list.
I don't know whether to laugh or cry. This is what I get for devoting my life to working with overprivileged children, I guess.
Earlier in the week, I asked the class for a volunteer to share their notes with a student in the class who is disabled and whose crippled hands prevent notetaking. I mentioned that an ideal volunteer would be someone who takes notes on a laptop, so that the notes could simply be emailed.
This afternoon I got an email from a student asking if he could "be on the list of people who get typed lecture notes sent to them."
Insensitive much?? Where do you even begin to say what's wrong with that?
Spend 20 years in that kid's wheelchair, and then maybe you can get on the list.
I don't know whether to laugh or cry. This is what I get for devoting my life to working with overprivileged children, I guess.
posted by Feemus at
9:53 PM
2 Comments:
Maybe this kid lives in a different dimension, and that's why you (and I) can't begin to articulate all the things that are wrong with this email he sent.
I don't often get into arguments with people who I sense are in another dimension, but I did a few weeks ago -- this guy, a known gasbag, was giving one of his opinions about a group project we were working on, and in giving his assinine opinion he insulted one of the people in the room who was working hardest on the project. It got to me, and I made the mistake of attempting to help him see how insensitive and just plain STUPID he was being. But Feemus, our conversation was like we were trying to throw things at eachother on parallel planes or something -- my stuff never hit him, and his never hit me. I was left feeling the same way I felt when I read about this kid's email -- sort of wanting to go, "but, but, but..." and finding nowhere to begin.
This could be George Bush's problem, you know: he's living in another dimension. Of course, his inability to live in this dimesnion is now it's EVERYONE'S problem, not just his.
Peace.
By
Claudia / PVS, at 5:05 PM
"A known gasbag"--that's actually what I want written on my tombstone....
I know what you mean about the "other dimension." One feels as though one could reach a solution if only there were some small point of contact. But maybe that's like thinking that if someone would just *really* listen to Cat Stevens, he sould like it!
Do you think the gasbag felt threatened because he knew that the other person had done more work than he had?
By
Feemus, at 7:38 AM
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