My Most Memorable Student
Last night, I listened to a colleague explain why he no longer teaches a radio course at a community college. It seems he got in some trouble with the administration for telling a student who had a terrible lisp that he would never make it as an on-air person – he would be better suited to writing or production or something behind the scenes. The kid was in 3rd year. He burst into tears. No one had ever before suggested that his obvious speech impediment might prevent a career as an announcer.
Having taught on and off in college courses myself over the past 12+ years I know exactly where the course leaders are coming from. They want to churn ‘em out, take their tuition and push ‘em through while giving them each the impression they’ll waltz into a job. The school is there to make money and feed itself. Sure, they want to do a good job blah blah blah but in the end, they want mostly to keep going. So I wasn’t surprised that a lisper would never be told to get some speech therapy or something because it would get in the way of his career plans. Some of the students are quite delusional in that way. And it made me wonder about other students. Do those with no hands show up and want to become a surgeon? Does a blind kid ever turn out for trucking school? And what does this kid think when he listens to his radio idols and hears their clean, crisp delivery? Oooooh, I’ll be different! Delusional.
I remember one guy in the last class I taught before deciding it was sucking too much out of my life. I’ll call him J. He was a piece of work, this guy. He was timid and didn’t raise his hand in class. He once did an ad-lib for me about physcially assaulting cats. He thought his little tidbit about animal abuse was perfect for morning radio, ostensibly to squeeze in between Celine Dion and Mariah Carey. He faked a car accident to get out of a test. He would turn in absolute crap, display no personality or spark whatsoever and then tell me that he was actually more confident and different than I saw him. I’d say, “well, put it into your tape!” and he’d continue to turn in timid, boring stuff.
Exam time was the capper. He put in an urgent call through the school for me to get in touch with him. He simply couldn’t write the exam with everyone else and, “You’re going to have to come in on another day.” I checked the school rules. Yup, by being an instructor there, I was obligated to give him another day of my time. So I did. I came in special for J. who wrote his exam with plenty of complaining and sighing about its contents. I didn’t bother to tell him that I hadn’t designed it, I was merely administering it.
His exam was a clunker. It was as if he had read a completely different set of questions and answered them, instead of what I had given him. He would pass, but just barely. The guy didn’t have it and he regardless of what I thought of him, on paper, he was doing a terrible job.
When he received his mark I got a scathing e-mail from J followed by a request to submit a backgrounder to the administration. J had complained to the board that I was biased and overlooked his “obvious talent” because I liked other students better. Turns out it wasn’t really personal because J had launched similar complaints against other teachers who also found his work lacking. He was a desperate, neurotic, stressed-out man-child who had no place in broadcasting. He couldn’t comprehend the simplest of theories surrounding how radio works. He did not deserve to pass. But he did. Somewhere, he has a certificate of radio from this particular school. No one knows where he ended up. Sometimes reality bites.
