Taking Sides

As I get older, something claiming to be wisdom keeps intruding into parts of my life where opinions are born black and white, demanding that the gray of discerning grace settle over outrage in a calming insistence that I wait.

So often, we hear of some horrible event, and it demands that we root for the victim and curse the perpetrator, as portrayed by the one relating the awful occurrence. We want to rush to seek out cause and blame, that punishment and retribution may be parsed out.

More often than I’d like to admit, the moment I close my mouth after its issuing of my ‘considered’ opinion, more information comes out that either reverses who was really the victim and perp or that both were one or the other. The egg on my face tastes vaguely of some monstrous prehistoric ostrich. My personal opinion is that it goes rather well with the boiled sock lint left over from having my foot in my mouth.

Different or Weird

Pastor Tim Ortberg said in a talk some years ago that many Christians, knowing that with Christ in their hearts their lives should be different and finding that it isn’t, default to being weird instead. This brings up a great question with which I’ve wrestled many times:  What is it about being a Christian that fundamentally makes my life different than someone who’s not a follower of Christ?

The New Old

As a new semester arrives like an oncoming bullet freight train, I am praying for great patience. One of the things I have to remind myself continually is no matter how old the mistakes and the immaturity may be, it is a new crop of students and so I can’t get frustrated with them because this is the thousandth time I’ve had to deal with this. I hope by reminding myself of this already, I will achieve a new level of patience, so that even if it is the tenth time for a particular student, I can respond (rather than react) to them with the serenity and mentoring attitude I had the first time I ever heard their issue from a different mouth as a TA 18 years ago.

I am also trying to remind myself to watch for the good students, to let the problem students fade into the background rather than dominating my attention, coloring my perception of the class as a whole.

The squeaky wheel may and should get the grease, but the others deserve attention also, and praise. There is a forest of students out there, and only a few thornbushes. I need to enjoy the forest even as I prune the thorns.

My attitude makes the difference, for all.

SDG

Confession

I blew it today.

I am currently participating in a special program through our University Extension service. They have partnered with a foreign chemical company. This company identifies talented high school students in its native country and hires them upon graduation. The students are sent to one of several partner schools in the US such as mine for 18 months of intensive English, study skills and introduction to basic technical courses (physics, calculus, and, oh, yeah, chemistry). Upon completion of the program, they enter various American universities for their undergrad degree in engineering before going back to work for the company.

I got these students in January to give them a very remedial introduction to freshman level chemistry. Some of these folks have had 3 years of high school chemistry already, but they learned it in their native tongue and by their native school system, which is very stringently rote learning. So learning a complex subject like chemistry in a new language with the critical thinking methods we use here can be a real challenge, hence the program.

When they started with me, they had been here a full year already, and are tired.

Things That Go Bump at the End of the Semester

In an earlier post, I think I mentioned how as a student I hated the end of the semester because it meant I was out of time for ‘catching up,’ and that now end-of-term-dread is lessened, but not removed, because I get to see human beings change into cornered/panicked animals. It’s not a pretty sight.

Today, I did a preliminary posting of the grades on one of the university’s online gradebooks, and announced as much. About 45 minutes ago, I got a panicked email (from a non-native English speaking student):

“Dear Dr Robb J Wilson

                   I just go to eGradebook to check my grade and I didn't see my letter grade yet. Oh no, am I fail your class?”

Emotion trumps logic—“No letter grade = fail” instead of “No Letter Grade = @$%@#$$ technology” Keep in mind also, that the numerical grade IS posted, and the grade breaks are in the syllabus. That’s too much work. It’s much easier to panic and email the instructor. And these are upperclassmen.

In all honesty, I do get frustrated and tired by the stream of panic, attempted manipulation, anger, indignation, immaturity, and so on. I forget that this is actually a small percentage of the total class (something about a squeaking wheel comes to mind). My defenses are raised up and I have to force myself sometimes to stop and listen to them to see if, actually, they have a valid complaint. I should be more patient. I just want to wrap up the semester and move on.

Then I remember our Father. I have to laugh at what HIS perspective must be when He sees/hears us panic at what to Him is not even an anthill. I suddenly get real thankful that He shows me far more patience than I sometimes show my students. Is my frustration reflecting Christ? Uhh, let me get back to you.

SDG