“By failing to prepare, you are preparing to fail.”
― Benjamin Franklin
When I was a college student (which really isn't that long ago), I would never have entertained even a casual thought to show up to a class unprepared. Okay, maybe that's not entirely true. Perhaps a handful of times I showed up to a class without having fully read an assignment, but I always (yes, always!) read enough of the assignment or skimmed it enough that I had a working relationship with and understanding of the assigned content I was expected to prepare. I made an attempt and a good faith attempt at that.
While I understand that time is tight for everyone, especially for working college students, I also recognize the concept of preparation contributing to respect: my preparedness shows respect for my instructors, respect for the institution of higher learning, and mostly respect for myself. After all, if I was spending my own hard-earned money to attend college classes, I should do whatever I could do to get the most out of it. Why on earth would I sign up to torture myself with lectures, homework, assignments, and tuition with an academic challenge if I didn't fully intend to make the most of it? Though this question seems rhetorical, it warrants further scrutiny based on the lack of preparedness I encounter in my classes on what seems a daily basis.
Each semester I prepare a course calendar--a task that is decidedly challenging for my not-so-linear brain--listing the assignments (both written and reading) that I expect students to prepare prior to arriving in class. I am incredibly sensitive to and mindful of not assigning "too much" for my students, most of whom I recognize are working adults and parents. I carefully monitor the assignments to make sure the students and I are "on the same page" about what is expected to be prepared for the next class. And, since I primarily teach composition, it is important that students arrive to class with their writing assignments completed so that we can engage in workshop activities focused on improving their writing.
However, approximately half (not an exaggeration here!) of my students consistently arrive to class unprepared and apologetic, claiming all of the usual excuses. I've heard them all, and they're usually prefaced with "I'm not gonna lie..."
Frankly, I wish they would lie. And, frankly I wish I could channel the stern face of the legendary professors to ask students to leave the class until such time as they are able to attend fully prepared for the class. Alas, my kindly, nurturing nature kicks in and asks why the assignment isn't prepared. I allow students to stay in class, but my reprimand remains at the level of reminding them about the calendar, about time management, and about the fact that they're not going to get as much from the class as they could if they had arrived prepared. I provide these students encouragement and the handouts, and allow them to remain in class to engage in discussions and provide feedback to their peers. But, inevitably I find I am muttering to myself about the fact that I would never have had the gall to ... catching myself before I let the muttering become audible and I sound like the crazy old woman pushing a shopping cart. And, also inevitably, I find myself bracing for the questions about (non-existent) extra credit I am now fielding at the end of the semester.
“If you believe you can accomplish everything by 'cramming' at the eleventh hour, by all means, don't lift a finger now. But you may think twice about beginning to build your ark once it has already started raining”
― Max Brooks, The Zombie Survival Guide: Complete Protection from the Living Dead
There is definitely a different work ethic at play here. I don't count myself among the most diligent and studious of students, but I respected the educational process and my role in it. I recognized that I was not going to pass my classes because the instructor "liked" me (as one student once accused/insulted me) but because I exhibited the skills and knowledge the classes I took required. I acknowledged that I was only going to get out of the class valuable skills and knowledge commensurate with the effort I expended. I trusted that if a professor was asking me to do something, there was a sound academic reason behind it. I knew that if I wanted to grow, it was going to require me to be uncomfortable, to leave my comfort zone and push my limits. In short, I believed in the process and value of edcuation.
I think some of the shift in work ethic is a direct result of a loss of belief: Many students no longer believe in the educational process as worthwhile or as an authentic experience, but see it instead as another chore, another labor devoid of real meaning that they must check off from their to-do lists. Many students no longer believe in pursuing the greater goals of education, goals like developing empathy and meaningful self-awareness and discovering purpose. Many students no longer believe in the mystery of edcuation, awaiting that a-ha! moment when things start to become clear, only to become more murky again as they encounter new concepts. Many students have not developed and do not believe they need to develop the soft skills of time management and prioritization that allow them to engage fully in their education. Many students no longer believe in delayed gratification, that hard work is worth it in the end.
To be sure, this is not an indictment of all students; I have the distinct pleasure and honor of having at least one or two students who still believe, but I'm not gonna lie...I wish there were more.
Sources:
Brooks, Max. "Quotes about Preparation." N.p.: n.p., n.d. Goodreads. Web. 13 May 2014.
Franklin, Benjamin. "Quotes about Preparedness." N.p.: n.p, n.d. Goodreads. Web. 13 May 2014.
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