It was the best of essays--elegant writing, coherent argument, analysis that made me look at the text in a new way--but it arrived in the same pile as the worst of essays--clunky sentences, slippery reasoning, hackneyed analysis. In the next pile, the best of final exams (clear, concise, insightful) gets lost beneath the essay produced under time pressure by a student who thought "open book" meant "use your neighbor's notes."
Yes: it's finals week! I find myself alternately rejoicing and groaning, and sometimes the urge to run screaming from the room is almost overwhelming. I read a brilliant analysis focusing on two difficult novels by William Faulkner and I feel like practicing my acceptance speech for the World's Greatest Teacher award, and then in another essay I read an entire paragraph composed of correctly spelled words that say absolutely nothing and I wonder why I didn't pursue a more socially useful career, like garbage collecting.
The piles of papers and exams are dwindling, but not quickly enough. I'll be up to my ears in grading today and tomorrow and probably Friday too, up to my ears in the best of papers and worst of papers. I only hope I get more of the best and fewer of the worst!
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