CHARISMATIC MEGAFAUNA

By Quiconque

What�s the Point?

�Just as a dog will eat feces, a homosexual will always be a homosexual.�

One of my students closed his midterm exam with this cryptic analogy. What could he possibly have meant by it? Does it matter that the essay question had nothing to do with dogs, feces, or homosexuality, and was supposed to address the gendered division of labor?

On the second day of class, this particular student came up to me after the lecture, and complained that he was frustrated by his political science course and he �hated my course even more� because we failed to tackle to true roots of oppression. He himself was incapable of clearly articulating what he thought the roots of oppression were. A self-proclaimed marxist who had not read any of Marx�s writing, he bombarded me with his garbled personal philosophy which seemed to be a mishmash of Fidel Castro, religion according to Dr. Bronner�s castile soap, and Garveyism.

Faced with the choice of either encouraging thoughtful discussion or ending a long and pointless monologue, I erred in favor of the former, and spoke with the student for 30 minutes. He believed that Europe was the cause of all the misery in the world and therefore all higher education was a waste of time. I tried to argue that 1) �Europe� is a contested place and idea, 2) current events are the product of long and complex histories, 3) yes, education is a form of social reproduction, but it can also be empowering and, 4) his conclusion did not follow logically from his premise. My efforts were in vain.

I tried to end our conversation gracefully, commenting, �Well, I�ll be very interested to read your papers this semester. I�ll see you next week.� But, just as he was incapable of listening to my arguments, he was incapable of picking up on my not-so-subtle cues that I was done talking to him. He followed me out the building where I smoked my two post-class cigarettes, he followed me to my car where I loaded my books and coat into the backseat. I eventually had the front door open, and my body was halfway in the car, and he was still talking. Finally I muttered, �I really have to go� and closed the door on him.

For the first time in my teaching career, I have been too busy to learn the names of all my students. One of my students actually called me on it in class. I was discussing a famous dead German philosopher when the class erupted in laughter. I was curious, since Prima is the only person of my acquaintance who has found dead German philosophers funny. �You don�t know any of our names, do you?� a student asked me accusingly. It turns out that another student was named after said philosopher. I had to apologize to the class for not taking the time to learn their names.

But ignorance has its advantages. I was able to grade without bias, and was pleasantly surprised when handing back papers that people who had demonstrated bizarre class participation actually wrote coherent and thoughtful essays. All except one. Mr. Dog Feces earned the lowest grade in the class. Not because of the dog feces analogy (because really, how was I to grade that piece of unwisdom?), but because he refused to follow the very basic instructions of the exam, instructions that were bolded, italicized, and read aloud several times when I handed out the assignment.

I�m sure he blames Europe.
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DIARYRINGS

READING: Student papers.

WATCHING: The Apprentice. They're really scraping the barrel this season.