We Don't Need Valentine's Day in Elementary School

My first February as a graduate teaching assistant I explained to the class why I was ant-Valentine’s day.

“A day for women to make men guilty for forgetting and for men to think women are needy,” I said. I’m sure my hands were on my hips in front of the chalkboard – though this would count as an embellished memory.

“Someone’s bitter,” the blonde girl in the front row muttered.

Thing is, I wasn’t. At my all female college we celebrated Peanut Week, a week of secret gift exchanges in the spirit of a secret Santa. The exchanges culminated in a big reveal, on, you guessed it Valentine’s Day. Your peanut was designed to distract you from the yard long table laden with bouquets. You can surmise how successful a platonic teddy bear full of candy was in the face of floral professions of love.

I’m not anti-love. I need love. Unconditional acceptance, the ties that bind me to my fellow sisters and brothers, the care I shower on children: all of it. And yes, as a married woman, eros plays a part in life, a part any couple raising young children might wish were larger (I wrote expanded at first and that seemed an even bigger pun. Dirty minds!).

Send the five year old home with a list of 15 names and say he must send in Valentine’s for all of them, purporting to teach appreciation, and suddenly I’m as conservative as my Hindu mother.

“He’s not going with Valentine’s to school!” I exclaim.

Now, I have these other not so vague memories, of sending the mandatory Valentines when I was in grade school. Whatever was cheapest at Walmart. I had two crushes then. And I let them both know it – signing all the cards anonymously – cleverly sending one to myself. Speculation was rife in class; as it circled and circled, I grew bore of the conversation, somehow forgetting my earlier ruse, and revealed myself.

“You like them!” The girls squealed. The boys were embarrassed at the attention and perplexed that a girl wanted to spend time with them.

I didn’t have an arranged marriage. I have written a romance novel.

And yet, the subject of love among four and five year olds gives me pause. We can’t say this is about phileo or brotherly love. We certainly aren’t talking about unconditional or divine love. These two are of inestimable more value at this (and any) age. So why do we continue to celebrate this holiday at school and let the chocolates have their commercial victory?

Am I getting old? Showing my roots?

I would love to be that parent who protests. But then my child won’t get any Valentine’s.


The Shadow Knowledge Economy

2535365969_dd11dd5b6f_zThere are no atheists in foxholes, goes the saying.  Abstract concepts of the afterlife become concrete when bombs detonate over your head.

You would never write a paper for someone else.

Unless you needed money to pay for your own education.

“People would ask me all the time to write their papers,” a student said to me causally, as we discussed something else. “And I would say, no, this isn’t what that is.”

I took a breath. Rumors abound on college campuses. Of a phantom hard drive that was passing through the hands of cousins, friends, and alums, with past papers for the core courses. Never one to let an urban legend go untested, I asked a few students about this. “No,” they would say with a dismissive hand, as if I were paranoid.

Here was someone presenting an older form of cheating: the direct approach. What if they wouldn’t take no for an answer?

“I would tell them to go and find someone else,” she said with a laugh.

And that’s what often happened, I found out, as I asked other students (gently, cautiously) if they knew their classmates were producing/purchasing assignments.

Yes, university students face this dilemma at an alarming rate, chimed students with relief, as if they wanted to unburden themselves of nagging guilt.

“I never heard about this until I graduated,” a recent alum said. “I was never approached,” he said. “I had a reputation that I wouldn’t do that.”

Cheating at universities is transforming from breaking into cabinets to steal exam answer sheets. You don’t need to record a professor’s keystrokes to access their hard drive. Or meet with a tutor one on one to learn how mastery of the difficult task. Some have say no, living on private funds or, when available, doing other jobs on campus. You can hire other older, smarter students to complete your assignments.

“I couldn’t say yes,” someone else said. “I really wanted to. I could use that money. What they’re offering is a lot.” She is part of the university student leadership and couldn’t reconcile the inherent conflict.

But others, approached more directly, more and more often, say yes.  To filling out college applications, completing problem sets, or writing term papers. If your client wants to meet with you and give input, that costs extra.

This is money that they use for necessities in their own educational pursuits. Paying for accommodation, food, transportation: you can make enough to cover all of these expenses.

“People used to cheat all the time,” another alum said. “They would have answers written under their sleeves, or pretend to check their phones for the time, looking at answers.”

“You never said anything?” I asked, eyes round. “You didn’t feel like they were lowering your grade.”

“I didn’t,” she said. “The professor knew. He had to know.”

I’ve read a few papers, wondering at how the student who rarely came to class, or contributed to discussion, managed such a coherent analysis of a literary character’s symbolism.

To accuse someone of plagiarism, you have to be able to find the original source. Turnitin.com and other software work by crawling the Internet and their databases of papers to find a match.

What if the paper isn’t online but in someone’s brain?

 

 

How to Use New Year's Resolutions

No Resolutions by Kate Ter Haar
No Resolutions by Kate Ter Haar

The last week of the year seems a good a time as any to say a word in favor of the much maligned practice of setting New Year’s Resolutions. I’ve been using them for at least a decade. From not buying clothes for a year (2009), to giving up meat (2012), and setting weekly creativity goals (2013), the new year has been a time for me to set an intention that has been nagging me.

Can the new year find us better people?

Well, my track record may be good, but not perfect. 2015 was my year of giving up soda. Coca Cola to be exact.

I didn’t hold to this as stringently as the others.

However, my overall soda intake for 2015, had I had not set this as a goal, was down. I would estimate I had 52 or less cans/cups/sips, about one a week. Compare that to the 2-3 in previous years, and I’ve cut this sugary habit in half.

My ‘failure’ at giving up Coke entirely taught me two things:

1. Compassion for addicts of all stripes. Because that is who you can relate to when you’re hiding in the kitchen during the party, hunched over a plastic cup, hoping no one sees you with the contrabrand.

2. Awareness of the strength of the call of sugar. This addictive substance is in everything from our milk to canned corn. Taking it away makes the craving stronger.

What am I going to do for 2016? I’m going to keep up this focus on eliminating sugar (hot tea is a great alternative).

And, I’m tackling another major area: Relationships of all types, romantic, familial, and friendly. The idea came to me one day while I was driving around town, frustrated by another petty disappointment and my (over)reaction to it. I’m going to start treating others the way they treat me I decided. I announced this as my resolution with glee.

Then, on another drive through town, listening to the Happiness Podcast, the suggestion came to me in another form.

Treat yourself the way you treat others.

The idea is the same: you give yourself regard, rather than letting yourself come last. No one likes a martyr, at least not in life, while you’re whining about how unfair everything is.

Have you tried New Year’s resolutions? What other successful ways have you found to change your habits and practices?