The Age of Privilege

How have we raised a generation of children for whom negotiation has replaced accountability? It is a question I ask myself every time I start my university classes, on time, and students trickle in, interrupting me and causing a minor disturbance. The door used to lock, and so, by closing it I handled the situation. Now, it is considered insensitive to the student. Poor baby. Meanwhile me and everybody else have our trains of thought broken.

I retaliated in the grade book. My syllabus states 3 tardies equal an absence, 3 absences equal an "F." Period. Case closed. Done deal.

For good measure, missing an assignment also results in failure.

Next week I’ll probably be facing the dean over some crybaby with 9 tardies, 3 absences and a zero. I wonder what she’ll have to say—it could rival some of the best science fiction stories on the market, no doubt. There’ll be pleading, excuse-making, and finally --accusations. That will just be the preliminary pre-meeting babble. Luckily, so far the administration has stood by statements listed in syllabi.

Those of you who know me, and know how vitriolic I can get when it comes to stupid behavior, will be surprised to find out that I get little satisfaction from these meetings. Sure, I win, if you define winning as having my side of the argument supported. But I don’t win, not in the big picture. No one does, least of all the student.

Accountability is no longer taught as a virtue. Children are taught, either directly, or by example, to question all authority, to provide excuses couched as reasons or explanations. They demand the time to be heard in order to spew this counterproductive drivel. "I know the rules. But…."

As parents, coaches, teachers, we accept that behavior, and reward it. Every time we give in to an excuse, we empower that child, and embolden her to continue to make the same choices. By default we teach our children that they can do everything they want, but we fail to see that double-booking and sometimes triple-booking their time results in all the activities suffering from inferior participation.

My student is working full time and has signed up for a full load. It can’t be done, at least, not well. At this point she has missed 40% of the instruction. No wonder she didn’t turn in the first assignment—she wasn’t there to get the instructions. If I don’t fail her now, she’ll continue to be sporadic in her attendance. I haven’t checked her schedule, but I fear she could be a nursing student. Woe to me if I should ever encounter her in an emergency room. I’d hate to see that she misses administering 40% of my meds because she’s double-booked. It’d just kill me.