Professors: Lemme fucking smack ya. Lazy fucking sonsabitches.
I work in the Education department at the local public library. I just spent an hour and a half (on our busiest day of the week, natch) helping some poor girl taking an intro to Educational Theory class dig up information on the guy in the subject.
After turning up only 12 mentions of his name in ERIC since the early '70s, I got a little suspicious.
Turns out that the prof had a TA go through the index of the textbook, writing down any names on slips of paper, which were drawn by the students. So while some kids get to do their term papers on Montessori or Piaget, others get stuck with some dude who wrote a newpaper column thirty years ago.
I had a psych professor pull this shit on me when I was in school; we had a “poster project” (College level my ass) and I pulled a guy who merited only two sentances in our textbook. How the fuck was I supposed to make a poster on somebody whose two claims to fame were being the first African-American psych PhD and the president of Wilberforce for a couple of years. There was nothing on this guy. I should fucking know, because in addition to Education, my department also covers Psychology.
So next to all the nice posters of Skinner and Freud and Pavlov, I set up a piece of posterboard with the words
**SOMEBODY WHATSISNAME
FIRST BLACK PSYCH PHD
PRESIDENT OF WILBERFORCE
**
in 72-point type.
I got a C-minus.
So listen, assholes:
If you’re too busy or lazy or stupid to come up with a way to formulate a decent fucking essay topic for your students, or, horror of horrors, you assign an ARTS AND FUCKING CRAFTS PROJECT for a college level class, you don’t deserve your job. You don’t deserve your degree. Hell, you don’t deserve to teach an obedience class for glue-sniffing pet rocks.
Fuckers.
