On a warm September morning, Professor O’Keefe’s computer chimes as an e-mail message arrives. O’Keefe’s first class of the day concluded just over an hour ago, and he is reflecting on what went well and what he needs to do in preparation for the next session. The e-mail chimes again, and O’Keefe begins scrolling through the unread and newly arrived messages. After deleting a couple that apparently slipped past the university’s spam filter, he stops at a message tagged with a university address and a subject heading that reads “Wow What an Intense Read!”
Intrigued, O’Keefe double-clicks to open the message. Abemused smile spreads across his face as the text of the message fills his screen:
Wow what an intense read, Taylor is. What does that guy do for fun geez. I have become fond of the dictionary through this book. Yet I still have a few questions: 2nd paragraph on page 17 huh wha? Also bottom of page 19 to pg 20 paragraph. Woah, that’s a little to deep for me. Could you shed some light on these paragraphs please? and the key phrases “Soft relativism and Soft despotism.” i have been outlining and noting each paragraph so i think i am on track, i will be attending thursday nite services.
Over and Out for now.
Even though it’s a class of 500 you really do well, I like it even though
i’m from a small town. (my entire high school could fit in your class)
WOW.
Margaret (I always sit in front)
Although “Professor O’Keefe” is our creation, the message embedded in the vignette is verbatim, a text drafted and sent by a first-year student during the first two weeks of classes. The message is charming in its enthusiasm, typical in its inattention to the strictures of standard English, amusing in its word choice (“thursday nite services” refers to a scheduled help session), and challenging in its implicit acknowledgment of the difficulty of college-level work and the subsequent requests for assistance.
The message is emblematic of the first-year students who populate American college and university campuses each fall. The claim may be surprising. We have all heard descriptions (and perhaps even made them ourselves) of first-year students that are a less-thanflattering assessment of their intellectual skills, their motivation, and their general ability to negotiate the complexities of an academic landscape. For all its informality, Margaret’s e-mail belies a grumbling account of the first-year student. If motivation can be judged by enthusiasm, it is certainly present, and if getting acquainted with the dictionary reflects willingness to engage in intellectual labor, there is evidence of that as well. Indeed, the entire message, with its questions and its promise to attend the “services,” shows at least the beginning of a sense of what is necessary to succeed in an academic community.
Intrigued, O’Keefe double-clicks to open the message. Abemused smile spreads across his face as the text of the message fills his screen:
Wow what an intense read, Taylor is. What does that guy do for fun geez. I have become fond of the dictionary through this book. Yet I still have a few questions: 2nd paragraph on page 17 huh wha? Also bottom of page 19 to pg 20 paragraph. Woah, that’s a little to deep for me. Could you shed some light on these paragraphs please? and the key phrases “Soft relativism and Soft despotism.” i have been outlining and noting each paragraph so i think i am on track, i will be attending thursday nite services.
Over and Out for now.
Even though it’s a class of 500 you really do well, I like it even though
i’m from a small town. (my entire high school could fit in your class)
WOW.
Margaret (I always sit in front)
Although “Professor O’Keefe” is our creation, the message embedded in the vignette is verbatim, a text drafted and sent by a first-year student during the first two weeks of classes. The message is charming in its enthusiasm, typical in its inattention to the strictures of standard English, amusing in its word choice (“thursday nite services” refers to a scheduled help session), and challenging in its implicit acknowledgment of the difficulty of college-level work and the subsequent requests for assistance.
The message is emblematic of the first-year students who populate American college and university campuses each fall. The claim may be surprising. We have all heard descriptions (and perhaps even made them ourselves) of first-year students that are a less-thanflattering assessment of their intellectual skills, their motivation, and their general ability to negotiate the complexities of an academic landscape. For all its informality, Margaret’s e-mail belies a grumbling account of the first-year student. If motivation can be judged by enthusiasm, it is certainly present, and if getting acquainted with the dictionary reflects willingness to engage in intellectual labor, there is evidence of that as well. Indeed, the entire message, with its questions and its promise to attend the “services,” shows at least the beginning of a sense of what is necessary to succeed in an academic community.
