Loathsome Predictability

Listening to reggae affects me the same way as students who think 101 and 102 are a waste of time. At first, I barely notice the back beat of complaint. We don’t need to learn to write we already know how. If the level of their writing was equal to that of a college student there’d be no requirement—they would have placed out of first year English. But I resist the urge to reply and try to tune out the noise.

The beat continues, wah-wah, wah-wah, wah-wah. They say, we’re here to become nurses, engineers, graphic designers, accountants—we want to take classes in our majors. But a college education includes the liberal arts to develop the whole person; it is not simply a trade school for acquiring certain skills. If students don’t develop the ability to think, problem solve, and speak clearly and persuasively, they’re unlikely to advance at work, if they manage to get hired at all.

The repetitive beat is tiresome. Even their actions are predictable. They never try very hard on the first assignment. They figure they can pass with a C if they turn in all the parts. As if life is like kindergarten and effort is a factor in success. Of course it can be, if the effort produces results. But this is college and results are the only thing that matters. Do they think their boss is going to care that they tried when they really screw up?

I can feel the heat flushing my face, I can’t ignore it anymore. I probably never could. And now I’m angry. The voices may change, but they all sound the same. Every semester there are students here who want to learn and they are hindered by the resistors—those who want a degree without an education. How long until they commit to learning or drop?

The loathsome predictability makes me queasy. Reggae is easy, I turn it off. But in the classroom I teach to the best and wait for rest to decide their own fate. To recover from the droning I purge my system. I play a song I like, really loud. One with a beat that makes me get up and dance and lyrics so well-said, I sing along.