If you're flunking and you know it, clap your hands!

You can almost smell it. Like blood in the water to a shark, the scent of the end of the school year is in the air. And the kids are falling apart. Three weeks away. They can’t wait. The staff can’t wait.

How come I’m flunking, I do all my work?!?

Today, in a few hours, I will hand out progress grades. I can almost hear the shrieks of pain and hopelessness coming from the seniors. Always my favorite time of year. And I will get the usual question, “how can I be flunking, I do all my work.” Not really sure where this phenomenon started, but I hear it over and over. Somehow, in their little academic careers, they learned to equate just turning in an assignment with automatically receiving an exemplary grade. They don’t understand the concept of a ‘spectrum’ of performance.

Of course, most will be in denial. They can’t possibly be flunking an art class! Then comes the anger. They will hate me for giving them an F. It’s all my fault, of course. Then the bargaining. There will be last-minute negotiations. Maybe they could clean up the room for a bunch of extra credit??? Next comes the depression. They will mope around for the remainder of the semester, digging themselves even deeper in a hole. And finally the acceptance of the fact that they won’t be graduating this year with their friends. That cap and gown purchase was all for naught.

I love this time of year.