Jecca Mehlota (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
jecca_mehlota) wrote2007-04-25 01:35 am
jecca_mehlota) wrote2007-04-25 01:35 am
More school related whining
AND AGAIN. LAST TIME. I PROMISE!
I honestly think my English professor believes me to be a complete moron. I'm going over my final paper again, since I have to hand it in tomorrow and I don't want to fail it. Failing the paper means failing the class, and that means no graduating and possibly having to retake the course. I refuse to retake this course.
Earlier - in February - I was sick and ended up going home after Psychology class. I made a quick stop in to my English class to drop off and pick up homework. I was told not to bother with the first question since it was asking about concrete and abstract nouns, because I obviously wouldn't know about those since we hadn't talked about them in class yet.
Now, I realize some people don't know that stuff. I realize there are several people who can't use a comma to save their own lives (never even mind colons and semicolons). However, she didn't have to phrase it the way she did. Ma'am, I've been speaking USAn English my entire life. No, I don't always speak proper English, or employ proper English in my LJ/AIM/less formal conversations. Most people don't (surprise!).
Anyway, I was checking over what I'd had done of my rough draft to hand in a little while back, making sure I'd changed all the things she'd wanted me to change...
I cannot write rough drafts. I hate them. I write a paper, and then I edit the paper, but I do not call that a rough draft. We had to hand in what we had, though, and she said it didn't have to be a formal rough draft and so, silly me thinking she meant that, I printed off what I had and handed it in.
We had to hand in an outline prior to our rough draft, so I'd been building straight off the outline. I figured, hey, it's right there. Might as well use it for something. Because of this, the bullets for the main points on my outline were still there. She went through my rough draft and circled them all and made a bunch of notes telling me I shouldn't put those in a polished essay. Well, no! Obviously not! The fact that this was called a rough draft and that my conclusion consisted solely of the actual word "conclusion" enclosed in parenthesis at the end of everything else didn't tell you anything?
No, actually, in all honestly, I thought we only had to inform the reader that we'd reached the end. It's the conclusion! You're done now! Hurry along, children.
I wonder how she thinks I made it into college, really.
It is just slightly offensive.
That and I'm sick of having to take English Composition classes. True it's only my second (since I was in the higher level class at my first college, it apparently didn't count. No, I can't explain that one, either). I even liked my first one! The kids in it were all wonderful and smart, and the teacher was wonderful and smart, and it made me very happy.
Creative Nonfiction last spring kind of killed me a lot because the teacher was an ... less smart and 13 out of the 17 kids in the class probably still don't know what a scythe is. Or a pyre. Or possibly even what "teleport" means. That was a sad class. This class I'm in now is frighteningly similar in many ways. I do not want to be in it any longer.
Bleh, I hate this stupid paper.
Alternately, condensed version: adsufhkgjngwe hate
I honestly think my English professor believes me to be a complete moron. I'm going over my final paper again, since I have to hand it in tomorrow and I don't want to fail it. Failing the paper means failing the class, and that means no graduating and possibly having to retake the course. I refuse to retake this course.
Earlier - in February - I was sick and ended up going home after Psychology class. I made a quick stop in to my English class to drop off and pick up homework. I was told not to bother with the first question since it was asking about concrete and abstract nouns, because I obviously wouldn't know about those since we hadn't talked about them in class yet.
Now, I realize some people don't know that stuff. I realize there are several people who can't use a comma to save their own lives (never even mind colons and semicolons). However, she didn't have to phrase it the way she did. Ma'am, I've been speaking USAn English my entire life. No, I don't always speak proper English, or employ proper English in my LJ/AIM/less formal conversations. Most people don't (surprise!).
Anyway, I was checking over what I'd had done of my rough draft to hand in a little while back, making sure I'd changed all the things she'd wanted me to change...
I cannot write rough drafts. I hate them. I write a paper, and then I edit the paper, but I do not call that a rough draft. We had to hand in what we had, though, and she said it didn't have to be a formal rough draft and so, silly me thinking she meant that, I printed off what I had and handed it in.
We had to hand in an outline prior to our rough draft, so I'd been building straight off the outline. I figured, hey, it's right there. Might as well use it for something. Because of this, the bullets for the main points on my outline were still there. She went through my rough draft and circled them all and made a bunch of notes telling me I shouldn't put those in a polished essay. Well, no! Obviously not! The fact that this was called a rough draft and that my conclusion consisted solely of the actual word "conclusion" enclosed in parenthesis at the end of everything else didn't tell you anything?
No, actually, in all honestly, I thought we only had to inform the reader that we'd reached the end. It's the conclusion! You're done now! Hurry along, children.
I wonder how she thinks I made it into college, really.
It is just slightly offensive.
That and I'm sick of having to take English Composition classes. True it's only my second (since I was in the higher level class at my first college, it apparently didn't count. No, I can't explain that one, either). I even liked my first one! The kids in it were all wonderful and smart, and the teacher was wonderful and smart, and it made me very happy.
Creative Nonfiction last spring kind of killed me a lot because the teacher was an ... less smart and 13 out of the 17 kids in the class probably still don't know what a scythe is. Or a pyre. Or possibly even what "teleport" means. That was a sad class. This class I'm in now is frighteningly similar in many ways. I do not want to be in it any longer.
Bleh, I hate this stupid paper.
Alternately, condensed version: adsufhkgjngwe hate