First things first- the term “group work” is a misnomer. It doesn't matter how many people you throw at a project, one poor schmuck always get stuck with, well, everything.
My name is Morgan and I am that poor schmuck.
My hatred of so-called group work dates back to the 3rd grade when I was forced to collaborate with a particularly annoying young chap (we'll call him Darryl) on a project about the Gold Rush or pilgrims or whatever it is you're supposed to learn in the 3rd grade. After several frustrating days spent trying to inspire Darryl to contribute something other than fart noises and snot bubbles, I approached our teacher and explained with the eloquence of a 5th grader why I simply couldn’t work with him any longer. When I asked, nay, begged Mrs. What's-her-face for a new partner, I was greeted with a condescending lecture that went something like, "You know, Morgan, things aren't always fair and it's important to learn how to work with all types of people because you’ll be faced with situations like this for the rest of your life…"
Turns out Mrs. What's-her-face was right. Year after year, project after project, I found myself in similarly frustrating situations. The only thing that kept me from jamming freshly sharpened No. 2 pencils into my eyeballs was the thought of college, a distant land where I'd be able to put the indignity of picking up other people's scholastic slack behind me. College, after all, is a place of independence. Independence and group work.
You see, the past three years of my higher education have been dedicated to being "the bigger person" while collaborating on everything from posters to term papers- ridiculous, no? It's not as if we're earning group degrees, although that might be one way to alleviate the CSU system's budget crisis. But I digress... If you've gotten this far, it should come as no surprise that when my History of Journalism professor announced last week that the enire course would be centered around group work, my stomach lurched and I broke into a cold sweat. I'm also fairly certain a tiny piece of my soul died. Not only will we be required to give group presentations, but said presentations will be graded by other groups. We're even formulating the questions for the final in groups. Where's a No. 2 pencil when you need one?!?
(Just to be clear, it's not as if I was expecting my world to be rocked by a course titled History of Journalism, or History of anything for that matter. I did, on the other hand, assume it would follow a fairly standard formula: professor ÷ students + lecture = complete boredom. I can handle boredom, but group work...not so much. What's that old saying about assuming and asses and "u" and me?)
Proponents of this specialized form of torture claim it builds character. My thoughts on that are as follows: if you haven't built up any character by the time you get to college, there's no hope for you. None. Getting stuck in a group with you certainly isn't doing anything for my character.
I should probably mention that I've only met with my latest round of group-mates once and that was just to exchange contact info and awkward small talk. At one point, a member of said group who shall remain nameless said, "No flakes, right?" What I can only assume was an attempt at levity elicited a half-hearted chuckle from the rest of the gang. I wasn't amused. Last time I checked, flakes don’t go around proclaiming their flake-dom. Instead, they wait until the night before a project's due to demonstrate their complete and utter uselessness. My fellow group members may be laughing now but I know it's only a matter of time before one of them decides to fly their flake flag.
I suppose in a perfect world they'd be branded with a scarlet F. Until that day, I'll just have to keep blogging.
The "no flakes" girl dropped the class. Oh, the irony.
ReplyDelete