Anyone who’s heard my gripes about my American History class knows this guy already: Brooking, my professor. He’s a self-claimed military historian, and particularly into learning all about battles. zzzzzzzzzzzz….. Firstly, this is a class that I am taking purely because it is required for my major. While “America since 1890″ is on the General Education Requirements list for all students, only really special people get to take the “America to 1890″– that’s the history of the United States from Jamestown to roughly the Industrial Revolution.
I am fine with learning this history, since I have to; but if I am going to put the time and effort into this class, I want to learn. Brooking has taken half the semester (yes, it’s already half-way over) to cover five chapters. Five out of fourteen is not an efficient pace, especially since his goal is to reach the Civil War, which is that very last fateful Chapter 14. It makes me angry when any professor stands up in front of his or her class and goes on tangents, again and again neglecting to cover all the information that was allotted for that day, and leaving gaping holes in the class content. I do the reading assignments, yes, but that is not the same kind of experience as a lecture. (And at least three times now, he has just put on a documentary for us to watch, instead of lecturing.) And not that I don’t have days of feeling icky, but he’s canceled class twice so far, leaving us even farther behind.
Yet, his first test had very specific information in the questions, and according to him, essays on the test were graded “nicely.” Today was the low point. After a quiz on the CONTINENTS AND OCEANS (because we are in middle school), he had a fit about how “concerned” he is over our “lack of caring” about the research paper that is due Friday, March 6. He was upset that only ten people submitted rough drafts (roughly 60 people in the class), and that those drafts that he read were not up to par for him. He informed us that he would be grading ver-wy strict-wy. Note my child-sounding voice there, used to emphasize how condescending this guy is. He called out efforts “half-assed.”
This type of talk upsets me. I am an adult, I do my work and take pride in the job that I do. I finished his blasted research paper over 10 days ago, and submitted my FINAL copy to him already (it’s submitted online). I wanted to raise my hand and say, “Sir, I resent those statements. I am not in kindergarten, or even high school, and I know how to write history papers. Believe it or not, this is not my first one.” Instead, I ignored him and considered myself exempt from his “worries.”
I even resent the fact that he treats us like children. A few weeks ago when we had our first test, he sat silently until someone in the class took a hint that he might be waiting for us to quiet ourselves down (from the rush of last-minute review that comes before exams are distributed). Once she “shhh”-ed everyone, he stood up and smugly said “Did we get that out of us, now?” Seriously, dude? Just because you have a degree, you have no right to talk down to me.
This upsetting manner of teaching reaffirms my vow to never, should I become a professor in my life, mismanage my use of time in class or treat my students like anything less than adults.
U.S. history turns out to be mildly interesting. I even found a topic that intrigued me enough to make my paper fun to research.
But, condescension + tangents + U.S. history = pure loathing.