You know the type: He saunters into class 10 minutes late, crosses directly in front of the lecturing professor to find a seat in the first row, and then allows his cellular phone to vibrate through numerous calls. Since he hasn't bought his own textbook, he leans over to read yours, giving you a smile to make others think you're friends and you're willing to share. After sighing heavily, he falls asleep for the remainder of the hour.
This is The Unabashed Slacker, and chances are good you've run across plenty in your day. Or maybe you are one, in which case you aren't reading this, but are doing the crossword in your geosciences class.
In a perfect classroom, we wouldn't have to deal with this sort of daily annoyance. But alas, this is not that day.
Professors acknowledged this when they proposed the Disruptive Behavior Policy last semester, but until the day when it's legal to expel students just for being stupid or wearing velour jumpers, we'll have to fend for ourselves. Thus, in the name of public service ÷ or at last commiseration ÷ I've compiled a roster of the top offenders, their modus operandi and how best to deal with their antics.
As bothersome as the slacker may be, there are still worse classroom nuisances.
If you've ever watched a student propose a ridiculous answer, only to realize what she'd done ÷ and then expend even more time and dignity trying to somehow adjust her statement to make it sound intelligent ÷ then you've witnessed The Sinking Ship. These students compulsively dig themselves into holes, and then employ whatever means necessary (personal anecdotes, incorrect citations, etc.) to turn those holes into trenches. There's only one thing to do with this type of student: Call 'em out. Let him or her know that if the ship's going down öö and oh, is it ever! öö it'd be best to disembark immediately.
Then there's The Intellectual Snob. When she refers to the personal letters of John Keats or the notebooks of Da Vinci, she knows her stuff. The only problem is, none of it's actually applicable to the matter at hand.
The Intellectual Snob is not a team player, and she certainly is not concerned about the class discussion. Rather, she's concerned with how to best show off her vast knowledge to her professor and peers. If a student ever walks in on the first day and asks you in advance to please not be intimidated by the caliber of her mind, a bottle of Excedrin lies in your future. In this case, you've got to run her out of class. There's no other option, unless you can beat her at her own game. And if that's the case, please be humble · or you risk being a MENSA wannabe yourself.
At the opposite end of the spectrum is The Martyr. This is the guy at the back of the room who mumbles all the answers just loud enough for his neighbors to hear. Then, when someone else earns praise by actually enunciating the answer, he says indignantly: "I SAID that!" Every day, he will whisper his answers öö sometimes repeatedly öö and pout as he's "unfairly ignored."
Yeah, whatever. Listen, the world beyond graduation is no place for the weak of heart. Trust me, you'll be doing him a favor when you tell him to speak up or shut up. If he still feels the need to express himself, provide a notebook in which he can write his answers. That way, he can at least affirm himself. And he can also write about how poorly the professor treats him, his peers shun his input and how his intelligence will never ever be appreciated. Humph!
Last but not least is The Aged Elite. These are the 30-, 40- and 50-somethings who have decided to continue their educations. Make no mistake: This is a worthy goal that must be commended.
However, when nontraditional students stride in late with their rolling suitcases, greet the professor like a pal as if they share membership in an exclusive grown-up club, and command their younger peers to "respect their elders," a line's been crossed.
Once, during a debate, a gray-haired student chided me: "Don't you talk until I'm done, young lady!" The entire class gasped. There are a lot of places these days where seniority brings benefits (Florida, buffets, etc.), but college is not among them. So if The Aged Elite should ever try to lord it over you, tell them this: "There will be no discounts here today, Grandma. You're on my turf now."
Everyone will thank you.
Sabrina Noble is a belligerent senior majoring in English and creative writing who may or may not fit into one or several of these categories. She can be reached at letters@wildcat.arizona.edu.