Wednesday, October 29, 2008

If I'm teaching myself, what am I paying you for?

For those of you who check regularly, don't expect any Zozer pix at school today. She's at Grandma's again. We're hoping we can kick this cold before Halloween, so we thought we'd play it safe and keep her away from all the other little snotballs for another day. She's doing better - was able to breathe (somewhat) through her nose this morning, but now she sounds raspy and she's coughing a bit more.

We put hours into our Management Accounting homework last night and it's still not done. While the class should be relatively easy (especially compared to the hell we went through with Advanced Financial Management), the textbook is one of the worst I've ever seen and that's slowing us down quite a bit. I know that a Management Accounting textbook isn't going to be the best read anyway, but the authors have managed to make it excrutiatingly boring and confusing. The assignments at the end of each chapter aren't formatted for ease of understanding (the questions for each problem look like they're attached to the background of the next problem), and there are no answers in the back of the book so you can check your work. I like to know if I'm at least in the ballpark when I'm working on a problem that takes over two hours to complete, you know?

The prof posted the answers for the Week 1 homework yesterday. Just the answers. He threw the textbook's instructor file up on the discussion board as-is, which means the students get to wade through the 50 problems to find the four assigned for each chapter, then essentially grade our own work.

When I was in elementary school, I had an English teacher who gave spelling tests several times a week. She placed a little tape recorder on a stool at the head of class, and her voice would recite the words we were to spell. After we'd take the test, we'd hand our papers to the person behind us (the person at the end of the row bringing hers up to the first row student) and get our red pens. We were docked points if we didn't bring our red pens to each class. Then, the teacher would push "play" on the tape recorder again and out would come her voice, spelling each word correctly. We would have to grade our fellow students' papers, placing a red dot under each letter as the words were spelled. Then we'd tally up the score and mark it in the top right corner of the paper and turn them all in.

What a ripoff. I was doin' her job. I'm not sure what the heck she was doing during all this (filing her nails? Reading bodice-ripping material from Management Accounting?), as I was studiously taking my quiz and then grading someone else's. Of course, I was in 5th grade so I wasn't exactly in a position to raise holy hell.

But now, dammit, I'm in my 30s (which makes me "respectable") and am a working professional and am paying good money for this class. If something doesn't change soon, I'm going back into my grad-student-from-hell mode. Because for the cost of this class I could purchase a Nikon D300, which would surely bring me more joy and, at this point, knowledge. Hell, by the time you add in the text book, I could get me some bigger memory cards, too.


Post a Comment

<< Home