Potent Amalgam

A potent amalgam...

Oh, okay.  I ripped off "a potent amalgam" from a New York Times article about Chinese bloggers sticking it to that country's Rail Ministry (and government restrictions of free speech) in the wake of last week's crash:  In Baring Train Crash Facts, Blogs Erode China Censorship:

BEIJING — “After all the wind and storm, what’s going on with the high-speed train?” read the prophetic message posted last Saturday evening on the Chinese microblog Sina Weibo. “It’s crawling slower than a snail. I hope nothing happens to it.”

They were a few short sentences, typed by a young girl with the online handle Smm Miao. But five days later, the torrent that followed them was still flooding this nation’s Internet, and lapping at the feet of government bureaucrats, censors and the state-controlled press.


The train the girl saw, on a track outside Wenzhou in coastal Zhejiang Province, was rammed from behind minutes later, killing 40 people and injuring 191. Since then, China’s two major Twitter-like microblogs — called weibos here — have posted an astounding 26 million messages on the tragedy, including some that have forced embarrassed officials to reverse themselves. The messages are a potent amalgam of contempt for railway authorities, suspicion of government explanations and shoe-leather journalism by citizens and professionals alike.


The swift and comprehensive blogs on the train accident stood this week in stark contrast to the stonewalling of the Railways Ministry, already stained by a bribery scandal. And they are a humbling example for the Communist Party news outlets and state television, whose blinkered coverage of rescued babies only belatedly gave way to careful reports on the public’s discontent.

What?

Jeezus.  Okay, the article was written by Michael Wines and Sharon LaFranière.

Oh, leave me alone! Some other people might have helped Shari and Mike: Jonathan Ansfield contributed reporting, and Adam Century, Li Mia, Li Bibo and Edy Lin contributed research.


This fit of honesty was brought to you by the nefarious and far-ranging moral influence of my Brother-Units.  One of them is a college English professor and the other maintains several blogs that are ruthlessly annotated with precise credits and hair-splitting acknowledgements of all that is minute and obscure.  


Grader Boob, the professor's chosen nickname, continues to require resuscitation several times in the course of each semester, continues to be shocked by encounters with plagiarism.


He has very little hair left and no shoulders (It's a family curse, these shoulder issues) due to the frequency with which his students go over his head (via his shoulders) to the milquetoast dean of their choice.


His department employs an online plagiarism detection service, something similar to Turnitin.  Otherwise, profs would be mired in the constant muck of "Did you write this?"  

Comprised of the OriginalityCheck, GradeMark and PeerMark programs, Turnitin provides a powerful solution for student writing. Using Turnitin, students upload their writing assignments and then instructors can check the papers for matching content from Turnitin’s extensive databases, review the paper for proper citations, provide digital marks on the student paper and assign papers for peer review. All of this takes place in a unified view of studentsʼ fully-formatted papers.

It may be news to some of you, but a hefty percentage of today's students are brazen. By "brazen" I mean they're *this* close to being serial con artists. Respect?  Don't count on it.  Intellectual curiosity?  Huh?  Critical thought?  Meh.  Work ethic?  Is this gonna be on the exam?


I'm out of the education game now [except for some private endeavors] but get just enough of a fix from Grader Boob's frantic emails to stave off major withdrawal symptoms.  Absent word from him, Fred knows to summon the monks, who toss me on the stretcher they make of their sturdy broadcloth skirts and rush me to one of the monastery's Indoctrination Classrooms.  I can be briefly revived by the chemical scent of a dry-erase marker gently shoved up my left nare.  Folklore has it that if a substantial pinch of pure ground calcium sulfate (or calcium carbonate) is placed between cheek and gum, an instantaneous cure may be effected -- but finding pure samples of these increasingly rare compounds is nigh unto impossible.


Uh-oh.  


I just spent an irretrievable amount of precious time reviewing images and related articles culled by a search for "monastery classrooms." Yes, it *is* embarrassing to be caught without a snap of our neighbor Cistercians' Instruction Cells but the rich rewards of the search have me feeling all sweet and nice-like.  I mean, how can you not love something like this article from China Tibet Online, announcing the inauguration of the Sakya monastery's new site:

The new site to the monastery of Sakya has been built since May, 2005 with the investment of 9.62 million yuan and was totally completed this year. In the morning of Sept.5th, the inauguration of the new site is held lively. The new site is enlarged from the old one.Every year, Sakya Monastery enrolls new students once. For these students in the monastery, a study period of six to nine years is demanded. After the completion of the study, 7-year self-cultivation must be made. All including the study, the accommodation, the food are free. A big debate examination on Buddhism theory will be held every summer and every winter respectively.Corresponding diplomas will be given to students who finish the different-stage study. The monastery of Sakya has eight departments with its own classroom. Library, computer room, newsroom, and more rooms for students and teachers.

Shoot, I would PAY good money (non-US, I'm thinkin') to teach a classroom full of students planning on a 7-year period of contemplation after the completion of their formal education.


Hmmm.  Even my favorite segue (a cheery and cheerful "Anyway...") cannot save this post.  


Anyway... back to Brother-Unit Grader Boob and his tireless battle to educate the 18 - 22 year old youth of his state.  As luck would have it, much of the back-and-forth he must engage in over grading, attendance, do-overs, make-up work, and yes, plagiarism, is captured in priceless emails.


Let's revisit that amazing exchange of ideas that took place between Grader Boob and Johnny back in the Fall semester of 2008, shall we?

Dear Mr. X:  i was reading the comments for my 2nd draft and realized that the only reason why i received such a low grade in the paper was because you were part of the audience being attacked. in your "opinion", the whole paper was illogical and that's because you do not agree with my point of view and do not see it from my perspective. i did not mean to take it this far. I was expressing how i feel and obviously did not anticipate the consequences.With all due respect sir, my logic and point of view stands and i won't change anything. i will oversee the grammatical and MLA format errors but that is it. this paper was not a A+ but it certainly wasn't a D- either.Now that i've seen the expression i got out of you, i find it to be the best paper i've written yet. it was exactly how i expected the attacked audience to react. Now i have the outmost respect for you as a professor, thats why i recommend you read the paper over, put your feelings aside and give me the grade i deserve. in the case this project cause me to fail this class, I will take the appropriate action and take it to your supervisor and make my case. please do not take this as a threat, look inside yourself and think about this for a while. i am not going to rewrite this paper because you were offended sir, i can only sincerely apologize. i may have bad grammar skills or whatever but a stupid kid, i am not sir. Thank you.[Johnny]

Hi [Johnny]--You're being naive if you think that I get offended by a paper criticizing my generation. I read and grade each paper from the perspective of an academic audience.It is, of course, your option not to make any changes in your paper; it is, after all, your paper.But you've already seen the grade that that paper will receive.I wouldn't anticipate any change in that grade unless there are viable revisions in the final draft.
Mr. X

hello again SIR.Guess we gonna have to do this dance because my decision stand. we have two choices: we can schedule a meeting and i will make my case before you or i can wait until you give me the D than go straight to the dean or whoever is responsible for overseeing this matter. i may competely be naive sir... but i'm confident in my logic. im betting the majority who argue for our generation got this grade and thats why you brought the Bloom triangle BS to class the other week. i know u thinking about me wasting your time, i spent well over 6 hours on the assignment which you have assigned so id say i deserve a bit of ur time. therefore i suggest we try the first option.... [Johnny]

        Hi [Johnny]--

My office hours are listed on the syllabus. Feel free to swing by--either with the draft you have or with the final version of the paper.Be sure to correct the grammar errors before coming by. That should save us a lot of time.Mr. X

Poor Johnny. Poor Mr. X.

Myself?  I lack Grader Boob's infinite capacity for loving patience and his apparent aspiration to be a footnote to the Book of Job.  Also, I used to throw things at my students.  Were he one of mine, Poor Johnny might well be writing his apologies from the Student Infirmary.     


Officially, Grader Boob's large public university has a zero tolerance policy on plagiarism and cheating, in general.  In actuality, its enrollment numbers are in such decline that it covets every precious FreshPerson.  Hence my brother's lack of hair and sagging shoulders.  He's ridiculously dedicated to the idea that only good can come from relationship and dialogue, and despite year's of their abuse, is shocked whenever a Student-In-Big-Trouble fails to attend either office hours or a polite summons to appear.  He would prefer, he says, to work things out.  Indeed, if Johnny or Jane Plagiarist would just show the hell up, he's been known to allow the little reprobate the opportunity to re-write their composition/research paper/exam on the spot and, thereby, turn a zero into a sixty.  He double-majored in Math as an undergrad, so when he tells them that "a zero doesn't average well when calculating a grade average," I guess he knows whereof he speaks.


It was a rare moment of weakness when Grader Boob let slip that sometimes he'd be grateful for even a plagiaristic impulse, anything to reflect, well, verifiable consciousness.  I, of course, immediately published the relevant fragments of his 2009 email right here on the cutting edge elle est belle la seine la seine elle est belle blog:

One of his writing assignments for his Freshman comp students involved song analysis. Sorry to say, Grader Boob notes that, "apparently, the idea of a thesis merging literary and rhetorical analysis escapes most of my writers."  He offered the following quote from a student paper as clarification:
"Marley was a Jamican who sometimes visited the island of Hadee."

Words are such wonderful things, and power.  Like everyone with a passion, I fail to understand people who don't share mine, who don't understand the radical nature of speech and therefore want to speak well.


When the paucity of pay at the university level of education moved me from an ivory tower to an inner city public high school for the last few years of my career, I was excited, thrilled at the opportunity to effect change, to make a difference -- to be a très cool recasting of Poitier's Mr. Thackeray, with Alanis Morissette singing "To Madame, With Love." 


You can stop jiggling with laughter any time, okay?


Right... So I didn't make it past the first day before being initiated into the concept of "oh no you didn't." As in:  I know you didn't just touch me.  As in:  I know you don't think I am going to do this work.  As weeks and months went by, "oh no you didn't" only gained in textual complexity.


It was something of a surprise to see the nonchalant, smiling faces when I passed out Deficiency Notices at midterm.  Curious, I inquired what they thought the reaction at home to the notices might be.  So it was that I first learned about Failure to Educate lawsuits.  Go ahead and fail us, my merry high schoolers' taunted -- My Momma will sue your ass for Failure to Educate.


Grader Boob I am not. He would probably find an exciting opportunity for a writing assignment in that threat of legal action. Even when a student followed that up with "And I guess I'd have to take you out, Ms. Madam," my brother would feel delighted by his invitation to dinner.  [HINT:  Not an invitation to dinner.]


I miss those kids.  


I survived -- and occasionally thrived -- under their tutelage.  And I like to think that they are out there, Ms. Madam's secret army, stealthily spreading critical acumen with their original, pristine prose.


Embarrassing, praising, consorting, admonishing, working, helping, advocating social change, even threatening rhetoric and persuasion: a potent amalgam.

Ms. Madame's Best