The Fruits of My Labor...

The end of the semester always seems to reveal to me the "FRUITS OF MY LABOR" or rather the lack of fruit . . .

It's always a mixed bag of much improved young writers - like shiny apple trees, slightly changed and detached students who scraped by - like wilting corn stalks begging to be shucked so they don't have to suffer in the heat of academia, and those handful of "crab apples" that plagiarize with no regard for the time and effort I put into teaching them how to cite correctly or my discussions with the class about the seriousness of the Final Research paper and the work that it requires.

I still get a bit insulted by the students who believe that I am just too stupid to recognize their plagiarism and do it with such flagrant disregard for how hard it is to create original work. (They don't seem to see anything wrong with stealing the creative, intellectual property, which makes me wonder about the citizens we are producing in society)

Needless to say, my first summer session was not a good harvesting season! But who knows . . . seasons change and the next harvest might be better?! Here's hoping . . .

Reporting from the Trenches . . .