Is it true that college students can’t write?
All I said was that one perk of living in Riverside is that there’s really no pressure to buy your kid a car…And she started justifying herself. Her daughter’s a good student; her daughter works and she thinks that’s great; she just doesn’t feel that there’s anything wrong with buying her daughter a car. She rolled her eyes, put her hand on her hip, turned and walked back to her seat.
I’m getting ahead of myself.
I was grading papers on my flight home last night from Hartford, CT, chatting with my “neighbor,” who was on her way back to LA after visiting the University of Massachusetts Amherst (UMASS) with her daughter and grand daughter, the latter of whom will be a freshman there in the fall. The woman’s daughter had stopped to visit with her mom, who explained that I am a professor and had been grading papers since take-off. She asked if it’s true college kids can’t write. Following my somewhat flippant response of “Not this one,” we chatted about our children and the challenges of 21st century parenting. I probably should have stuck with commiserating, but I didn’t.
My fellow mom and Delta passenger, a self-confessed "helicopter parent," admitted to hiring a coach to help her daughter complete her college applications because the process is so confusing now. I disagreed, and explained that while there might be more competition at some schools and it’s certainly more expensive to apply, the application and financial air processes are actually easier and more efficient. The vast majority of my students successfully (obviously) filled out their own applications.
She said she was worried that even though her daughter had graduated from Westlake High School – a predominantly white, highly rated public school in the Los Angeles area – and been admitted to UMASS, she wouldn’t be able to write. I told her not to worry. I’m sure her daughter’s quality high school program had prepared her well for college. Anyway, in my experience, poor writers suffer more from some combination of laziness and hasty, last-minute efforts than lack of ability. I used my son, Quentin, as an example; he rushes every writing assignment, and has to edit, revise, and rewrite repeatedly.
She explained that she’s a single mom and had sacrificed to ensure her daughter had access to a quality high school program and ensure she got to go to college on the East coast. That’s when she mentioned the car. I told her that was too bad she felt that she had to purchase and maintain a car for her daughter that was worthy of Westlake’s student parking lot. I don’t feel at all pressured to buy my son a car. To be honest, I don’t think every driving-age child needs a car, and believe that those who do should contribute to the costs of car ownership and driving. I told her that my loving spouse and I don’t intend to get our son a car until: a) he genuinely needs to drive, and b) he can pay a significant share of the costs associated with doing so. That’s when she turned on me.
I really didn’t mean to offend, but rather to re-assure, which is odd. After all, I’m the one who deserves consolation. My purportedly under-socialized children are home-schooled. In Riverside. Yikes! The poor things can’t expect to “ride for free,” and will be responsible for their own college applications.
Perhaps aware again of the red ink on the papers I was grading, she suggested I “write something nice” on my students’ papers. “Always,” I said. For all the poor grammar and style errors I have to wade through, most of the students manage to provide plausible arguments; some even blow me away with their insights.
Tags: applying for college, can college students write, do high school students need cars, in flight conversations
