Doomed

Once upon a time a young and gullible Chief taught at the local Community College. It was fun, because I love Geology, and it was fun, because it was more than a little like performing and I love to perform, and it was fun because I liked the students, generally, and I had good students. But it was also fiendishly hard work. It paid less than working at the Car Wash. And the hours were hell.

I'd leave for work at 6 and return home after 10, three nights a week. So after the Peep was born and I got back into consulting I hung up my Powerpoint, never again to meet the hordes of grade-frenzied undergrads on the fields of academic strife.

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I said I loved the students and I did. But I also worked at two different campuses and the inadequacy of both abilities and attitudes at the franchise I'll call the "Legin Campus" was shocking. I had so many students ask me that I actually had a seperate card in my course introduction lecture that read "Asking me how little you can do and still get an "A" is a perfect strategy for not getting an "A". And another that said: "Yes, the material is hard; if it was easy they'd call it "high school". Some of these poor gomers were mental worm food and yet they raged, raged against the dying of their GPA like I was some sort of mad academic Dr. Kevorkian. And being the good little adjunct instructor I was, I always tried to be kind and sympathetic, regardless of...ahem...my internal attitude. But the attitude was still there.

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Hence my enjoyment of today's "9 Chickweed Lane":