WASTE chapter 13
Throughout the quarter our class discussions were never unruly. We practiced simple basic principles of parliamentary debate. I made it clear that I considered this procedure, this process of exchanging ideas and opinions—these rules of order—much more important than any of the many opinions and ideas expressed. I had photocopied and distributed my reminder.
“Simply express your own opinion as best you can,” I advised. “Let us decide.”
In the last two weeks of the term my students submitted and presented their final essays. These essays I read and graded but neither marked nor returned. Most I photocopied and distributed. Some we read together in class. Students briefly discussed them. At my invitation a few students—not many—read their essays aloud more formally from the lectern at the front of the class. Everyone who did so was obviously nervous and shy. A young Christian woman was the first to volunteer. In her exposition of her creed, she cited a passage from the Christian apostle St. Paul in support of her own affirmation of love. As she read the apostle’s words, she was overcome with emotion and began to cry. She stopped to compose herself.
“There’s no need to go on,” I offered.
Shaking her head no, she took several deep breaths and for a moment or two did manage to calm herself. I waited.
“I want to,” she insisted. “I don’t know why I’m crying!”
She finished, silent tears rolling down her face and dropping from her nose and chin as she read. At her essay’s conclusion, students applauded, setting a somewhat awkward precedent. Their applause created uncomfortable expectations in subsequent readers and a slightly disingenuous sense of obligation in their audience. At our last class meeting I informed each student of his or her final course grade. We only briefly discussed minor discrepancies and I corrected a few obvious errors. For an unhappy student or two I scheduled a private conference. We said goodbye.
Class dismissed.
.......................................
WASTE to be continued
Throughout the quarter our class discussions were never unruly. We practiced simple basic principles of parliamentary debate. I made it clear that I considered this procedure, this process of exchanging ideas and opinions—these rules of order—much more important than any of the many opinions and ideas expressed. I had photocopied and distributed my reminder.
Never interrupt.The moderator, of course, was me. I was not shy about exercising my authority. I explained that I was the one and only exception to our rules of order. Though I too would abide by them, if necessary as moderator I was permitted to breach them in order to enforce them. Though occasions were rare, I did interrupt. I did not permit students to whisper among themselves. They could not sleep nor lay their heads on their desks. I did not permit students to turn in their seats to confront or to question classmates. When this occurred, I halted discussion, reminded the class of the principles we practiced and the reasons for them, and enforced a few long seconds of silence before I permitted any speaker to resume. I discouraged and opposed all attempts to undermine another’s argument.
Until acknowledged by the moderator, maintain an attentive silence.
Raise your hand to be acknowledged.
Address the moderator only, never another speaker.
Don’t criticize other opinions. Instead, present your own.
Be reasonable.
“Simply express your own opinion as best you can,” I advised. “Let us decide.”
In the last two weeks of the term my students submitted and presented their final essays. These essays I read and graded but neither marked nor returned. Most I photocopied and distributed. Some we read together in class. Students briefly discussed them. At my invitation a few students—not many—read their essays aloud more formally from the lectern at the front of the class. Everyone who did so was obviously nervous and shy. A young Christian woman was the first to volunteer. In her exposition of her creed, she cited a passage from the Christian apostle St. Paul in support of her own affirmation of love. As she read the apostle’s words, she was overcome with emotion and began to cry. She stopped to compose herself.
“There’s no need to go on,” I offered.
Shaking her head no, she took several deep breaths and for a moment or two did manage to calm herself. I waited.
“I want to,” she insisted. “I don’t know why I’m crying!”
She finished, silent tears rolling down her face and dropping from her nose and chin as she read. At her essay’s conclusion, students applauded, setting a somewhat awkward precedent. Their applause created uncomfortable expectations in subsequent readers and a slightly disingenuous sense of obligation in their audience. At our last class meeting I informed each student of his or her final course grade. We only briefly discussed minor discrepancies and I corrected a few obvious errors. For an unhappy student or two I scheduled a private conference. We said goodbye.
Class dismissed.
.......................................
WASTE to be continued
