The Venting Thread

[EdnaMode]

I was more than halfway through grading an assignment and wondered why everyone was doing so poorly. Well, it wasn't them, it was me. I printed out the wrong answer key to use when grading their calculations. It was from an example problem that was slightly different so all the answers were slightly off. Now have to go and regrade all of them. Thankfully, I didn't finish and post the grades. Ugh. I'm such a dumba**.

[AmLitHist]

I was more than halfway through grading an assignment and wondered why everyone was doing so poorly. Well, it wasn't them, it was me. I printed out the wrong answer key to use when grading their calculations. It was from an example problem that was slightly different so all the answers were slightly off. Now have to go and regrade all of them. Thankfully, I didn't finish and post the grades. Ugh. I'm such a dumba**.

At least you caught yourself.  Talk about a dumbass--that's me:  I graded an entire set of annotated bibs, more or less on autopilot (I'd seen the rough drafts a week earlier, and admittedly I pretty much zoned out). Filled in the rubrics, let Canvas calculate the points, and moved on. Only a day later did I glance at the gradebook and see that my usual "A" student, who'd admittedly done a less-great job on this project, had earned only 69/175 points. WTF? 

So I looked at the College-mandated rubric and saw that an "excellent" in one category earned 60-85 of the available 85 points; a B, 49-59;  a C, 20-48 points.  I don't know what the committee was smoking when they wrote it up, but the standard is a 10% scale. I started raising hell on Friday, but since I'm not allowed to make any changes to these mandated course-of-record materials*, I couldn't fix it myself without approval, which I finally got late yesterday. Then I actually did have to go back, correct the rubric myself, and re-grade everything (just applying the new rubric didn't carry over the previous markings). What a PitA and colossal waste of time, not to mention pissing off the good students.

That's what happens when you find yourself buried in grading and trying to just push through it all.
---
*A colleague did make similar changes a year or so ago to a course of record; he's now a former colleague, after getting fired for it.

[EdnaMode]

I was more than halfway through grading an assignment and wondered why everyone was doing so poorly. Well, it wasn't them, it was me. I printed out the wrong answer key to use when grading their calculations. It was from an example problem that was slightly different so all the answers were slightly off. Now have to go and regrade all of them. Thankfully, I didn't finish and post the grades. Ugh. I'm such a dumba**.

At least you caught yourself.  Talk about a dumbass--that's me:  I graded an entire set of annotated bibs, more or less on autopilot (I'd seen the rough drafts a week earlier, and admittedly I pretty much zoned out). Filled in the rubrics, let Canvas calculate the points, and moved on. Only a day later did I glance at the gradebook and see that my usual "A" student, who'd admittedly done a less-great job on this project, had earned only 69/175 points. WTF? 

So I looked at the College-mandated rubric and saw that an "excellent" in one category earned 60-85 of the available 85 points; a B, 49-59;  a C, 20-48 points.  I don't know what the committee was smoking when they wrote it up, but the standard is a 10% scale. I started raising hell on Friday, but since I'm not allowed to make any changes to these mandated course-of-record materials*, I couldn't fix it myself without approval, which I finally got late yesterday. Then I actually did have to go back, correct the rubric myself, and re-grade everything (just applying the new rubric didn't carry over the previous markings). What a PitA and colossal waste of time, not to mention pissing off the good students.

That's what happens when you find yourself buried in grading and trying to just push through it all.
---
*A colleague did make similar changes a year or so ago to a course of record; he's now a former colleague, after getting fired for it.

Having those sorts of rubrics is worth a vent itself. Granted, I'm the 'course coordinator' for a couple of required courses but the rubrics are the result of a discussion between me and the other faculty who teach the courses. I just get the fun of creating the rubrics. And if any of us decide during the semester a rubric is stupid, then we discuss it and all change it. We do want students to have a similar experience across all sections of these courses so they are all prepared (we hope) for the courses they are prerequisites for.

[Langue_doc]

Neighbor across the street has a huge political banner hanging down his porch. All I can read is "RUMP", but still...

[AmLitHist]

At nearly 4 p.m. on a teaching Monday, I've gotten virtually nothing done. 

My first class went OK; then, after scrambling to put together a really neat activity to reinforce integrating and documentation with the second class, nobody showed up--well, actually 3 did, all older guys who can write well, so I sent them to take the time and work on their big final paper, since they'd already mastered the material I was going to review.

Before, in between, and after those classes, all hell has broken loose with Kid #1. Manic episodes suck (hers, not mine--she's bipolar). I am so-beyond-sick of getting called everything but a child of God. I know she can't help it, and I try to let it roll off, but it still hurts, no matter how tough I try to be. All of this doesn't do my own anxiety and major depression any good, either.

SIGH.

[Langue_doc]

Everyone seems to think that I'm minting money at home. I've had several emails asking for donations, donations, and more donations. There's also a nicely crafted card in an envelope from the "Giving" department of my medical practice, a large and wealthy conglomerate, informing me that I'm part of the "team", and that I make "positive change possible" through my donations.

My vent pales in comparison to yours, ALH.

[fishbrains]

At nearly 4 p.m. on a teaching Monday, I've gotten virtually nothing done. 

My first class went OK; then, after scrambling to put together a really neat activity to reinforce integrating and documentation with the second class, nobody showed up--well, actually 3 did, all older guys who can write well, so I sent them to take the time and work on their big final paper, since they'd already mastered the material I was going to review.

Yeah, I had that class last fall. It reminded me of how comedian Bill Hicks would sometimes open his act: "I've been doing this for 15 years, so give me a second to slap on this plastic face before we plow through this $hit one more time."

Anyway, I was recently asked at a conference what the best part of teaching was. I think they were expecting something romantic and starry-eyed, but my response was, "It ends. Every semester comes to an end. If you have a good class, you get to end on a high note and exit a winner before they find out. If you have a class with a bunch of a$$hats and no-shows, you can endure because you know the semester is going to end pretty soon and you get to go on a break."

Okay, I promise I started out trying to relay a message of hope for AmLitHist . . .

[evil_physics_witchcraft]

At nearly 4 p.m. on a teaching Monday, I've gotten virtually nothing done. 

My first class went OK; then, after scrambling to put together a really neat activity to reinforce integrating and documentation with the second class, nobody showed up--well, actually 3 did, all older guys who can write well, so I sent them to take the time and work on their big final paper, since they'd already mastered the material I was going to review.

Before, in between, and after those classes, all hell has broken loose with Kid #1. Manic episodes suck (hers, not mine--she's bipolar). I am so-beyond-sick of getting called everything but a child of God. I know she can't help it, and I try to let it roll off, but it still hurts, no matter how tough I try to be. All of this doesn't do my own anxiety and major depression any good, either.

SIGH.

Sorry to hear it. I have a suspected bipolar family member and I can relate.

[AmLitHist]

Thanks everyone.  Today seems a little better, if only because the sun is out and she seemed to be settling down when last I talked to her yesterday evening. The only thing to do is to let her ride it out; at least she's self aware and realizes, as she's in the midst of an episode, that she's manic.

Fishbrains, I take that as some of the best hope you could give:  it ENDS! My BFF colleague and I constantly remind each other of two things: we can put up with anything for 8 weeks (and after midterm, we restart that clock!); and since we're both closer to the end than to the start of our careers as this CC, we've learned to view our jobs as PT work with FT pay (meaning, we teach, do the service we want and say no to the rest, and don't let students get under our skin). Probably not the most stellar attitude, but you do what you have to do to get by.

ETA:  feeding the pup bits of buttered Italian-bread toast from my breakfast also helps immensely! I highly recommend it.

[apl68]

At nearly 4 p.m. on a teaching Monday, I've gotten virtually nothing done. 

My first class went OK; then, after scrambling to put together a really neat activity to reinforce integrating and documentation with the second class, nobody showed up--well, actually 3 did, all older guys who can write well, so I sent them to take the time and work on their big final paper, since they'd already mastered the material I was going to review.

Before, in between, and after those classes, all hell has broken loose with Kid #1. Manic episodes suck (hers, not mine--she's bipolar). I am so-beyond-sick of getting called everything but a child of God. I know she can't help it, and I try to let it roll off, but it still hurts, no matter how tough I try to be. All of this doesn't do my own anxiety and major depression any good, either.

SIGH.

Sorry to hear it. I have a suspected bipolar family member and I can relate.

Was married to it for some years.  It's heartbreaking to deal with.