A few weeks back I helped my niece write an essay for school. It was supposed to be a first draft, so I didn't press her very hard and had her focus on thesis elaboration, paying only minor attention to in-depth analysis and paragraph construction. She is, after all, only a freshman in high school. No need to grill her like a cheese sandwich.
The paper came back to her with two major talking points; the first was the 95 score, which on a wine scale rates just one point shy of "classic." I was proud of her. The second conversation topic was the accusation of plagiarism. As you may well guess, this is where Robin got just a touch peeved.
Although I didn't elaborate this point in the letter that will follow this missive, my conviction is that if you accuse someone of stealing another's work, you certainly don't award a solid "A" grade to the paper. You fail the project and make it known that you suspect chicanery. To me, awarding a high mark and then suggesting forgery is like saying this: "You committed murder, but there's no bail. Walk free until we get something on you."
I'm generally all for education and whatnot. Kids are often set adrift with a diploma or a degree without having learned a damned thing. If the test scores are adequate, move 'em along and keep the budget steady and incoming (a point which I did touch on, in a not-so-polite, but definitely eloquent, manner). However, it was a statement in the parent-teacher conference that really got me fired up. The teacher said to my sister-in-law (niece's mother), "Your daughter couldn't write sentances like that because I haven't taught her how to write sentances like that."
I couldn't make it to that conference, having a day job and all, but was in close telephone contact throughout the day because it was my aid that got my niece in hot water in the first place. I'm angry because of the instructor's arrogance - to feel that she is the deciding factor on my niece's education is to say that there is nothing else out there in the world that may positively influence her. I'd like to think that as someone who does, in fact, collect paychecks based on his ability to manipulate the English language, I may be of some authority in how to form a persuasive argument. No, I haven't won a PEN or a Pulitzer or a Nobel (or even as little as a Grammy for spoken word shit), but I do have a hint of talent when it comes to writing, and if I can pass that on to someone else - especially someone young, impressionable, and with both raw talent and minor inspiration - I will.
And that was the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back. The teacher (backed by the school's vice principal) said that my niece was not to accept any further help from me. She said that my niece was to do her own work (which I contest she did, with coaching). To me, this makes no sense. If my niece has a valuable resource nearby, why wouldn't she tap it? Moreso, if the kid isn't learning in school, and she knows of a way to learn otherwise, shouldn't she do so?
Without further ado, here is the letter that I wrote to her teacher and vice principal. I wasn't kind, mind you. Sure, I support teachers on principle, but when one tells a member of my family that the only proper way to learn is to accept what is taught in class, I can get surly.
And I was surly. There is, after all, a whole other world outside of high school, and it can have a good effect on the kids.
Madams or sirs,
I see it fit to respond to the allegations that [my niece] has plagiarized other works to craft her essay regarding abortion, or that even worse, I personally stand accused of writing her paper. Although I can appreciate questioning the dramatic upturn in the quality of her text, I can assure you that the work she presented is her own. Perhaps one should assume that under adequate coaching, any individual is capable producing work that surpasses all expectations.
The oversight I provided for [my niece] occurred over multiple days. I refused to offer any assistance until she came to me with a completed outline, as I have no time for thought genesis. Only once this task was accomplished was I willing to lend aid, and I did so at an intensity level that harkens back visions of Herb Brooks drilling the 1980 U.S. Olympic hockey team. Look what he accomplished with a band of green college kids using only a whistle.
[My niece] typed diligently, postulating ideas that I would either reject outright, order rephrased, demand to be elaborated, or, on the best occasions, simply say "go with it." Even under the latter there was still room for improvement, and I would hand her my pocket thesaurus (Roget's 21st Century in dictionary form, rather than the thicker standard version I carry). [My niece] probably heard the words "rephrase" or "no" more times in one evening than in all her years of education. I'm certain that in addition to carving out a fine article, she probably concocted at least a dozen ways to do me in and dispose of the body. Nobody ever likes their coach during practice or the game; admiration comes only at the time of victory. The work produced under my tutelage is of superior quality, and [my niece] should be proud.
Therein lies the nut of the dilemma – what becomes of the student when the teacher is not present. Do I expect [my niece]to duplicate her masterpiece every time out? Of course not. It'd be irresponsible to assume that any teenager will grasp every concept thrown at them in a short period of time. I've spent fifteen years toiling at my trade, and continue to dedicate myself to improvement on a daily basis. My intent was that if [my niece] retained even a modest five percent (a few words here, a sprinkling of sentence structure there…) of the coaching provided, it would be a triumph. Especially in these complicated times, kids are bombarded with meteor storms of information. At school alone she faces multiple subjects each day, a great many of them with little intrinsic value in the world she faces beyond graduation. Ask yourself when the last time you needed to figure out the area of a semi-circle or the lasting effects of the Magna Carta for anything other than educational purposes.
In [my niece] I see raw talent as a writer. She shows interest when inspired, and is fully capable of someday producing exceptional work. However, this is the point in her life where she will benefit most from educational assistance; hence, the public school system should still serve a purpose. I like that she recognizes there is a professional scribe residing one hallway away and is willing to ask for help. When she does ask me for help, she knows I'm not going to scrawl illegible notes in the margins, offer askance commentary or merely nod or shake my head. I provide detailed explanations, which in my own learning was what stuck the best. She comprehends my guidance is a grueling undertaking and to understate, no fun at all, but at the same time she knows that I am doing my best to help her achieve as a writer and she remains willing and committed.
Making indictments without first ascertaining what kind of assistance was rendered causes me to question whether the educational vessel piloting [my niece] is nothing more than a dilapidated coracle. If politicians and educators together invested in plans to educate their students instead of merely shuttling them through a series of quizzes and exams to earn their slice of the educational pork, then perhaps the results would be as strikingly evident as the results of the essay.
I assure you that [my niece] wrote her essay on abortion.
Sincerely,
Me.
If nothing else, can't I at least get the benefit of the doubt that I have better things to do than write high school essays?