Eff(ort)in' Academia

Earlier this semester, one of my colleagues emailed the department a link to a Times article* about student expectations. A brief discussion ensued: Most department members asserted that students have no right to expect a grade reflecting effort—grades in our classes reflect the final product, only.

To a certain extent, I agree with this notion: Especially in a course that demands students pass an exit portfolio, the final product is what matters most. But that's not to say that effort should count for nothing. (Most educators will agree that it's much more rewarding to teach a less able but motivated student than to teach a talented but lazy student.)

And besides who you know and what you know, effort has proven (to me, at least) to be an important part of career advancement. For example, when I was an undergraduate, I applied for the honors program within the English major. I was rejected, and I graduated without honors.

Now, here's the irony: Today I accepted a position to teach a 300-level writing course to senior business majors writing their honors theses. That's right, she who was not accepted into an honors program is now teaching honors students.

How, exactly, did I get here? Teaching in a challenging high school; a nighttime MA program that yielded a 4.0. A bit of luck, I admit, in finding a college-level teaching position under a director who was willing to take a chance on a young teacher with gumption.

Since that day in August, I like to believe that I've exceeded expectations: Even as an adjunct, I work late nights and weekends planning, grading, and corresponding with students. Their feedback to my courses is overwhelmingly positive. Faculty members are surprised to learn I'm not full time—because I teach more classes than they do.

So what is the point of all this bragging? Achievement isn't just about the final product. Perhaps we shouldn't give students false expectations, but I damned sure make it clear to my students that effort does count for something.



*Interesting note: Marshall Grossman, a professor interviewed for this article, was (briefly) one of my undergraduate professors. I found his expectations unrealistic and dropped his course.