I’ve been reading his writing for the last four terms, so I’m familiar with it. Therefore, when I saw the paragraph he wrote last night, I was immediately suspicious. First, it contained none of his usual mistakes. Second, he was using grammatical concepts that were far beyond his level. Even my co-teacher was unfamiliar with some of the turns of phrase the student had used. Also, not only are the mistakes that a translation program makes obviously discernable by a native speaker, but different from those a human language learner makes. Besides, the difference between the homework he turned in yesterday and today was so drastic, that I’d have to be blind not to notice. I discussed it with my co-teacher and after class we had a chat with him. I told him that he wouldn’t be penalized this time, but he’d have to re-do the assignment and promise not to do be lazy and use a translator again because I can tell when he does. He looked embarrassed when we spoke to him, and I honestly don’t think he’ll do it again. But it’s was amusing that he thought he could get away with doing this.
It reminded me of a similar, but less pleasant situation I encountered when I taught high school Spanish in Washington, DC. I had marked down a student’s (I’ll call him Bill) project because he had obviously used a translator. In this case, he was a Level I student, and I’d been the only teacher he’d ever had, so there was no question what vocabulary and grammar he was familiar with and capable of using. His father called a meeting with the principal, one of the vice-principals and me.
Bill’s father raged about how teachers like me don’t want to see Black boys get ahead. Excuse me? Could he not see that I’m Black? Secondly, the majority of the boys in my classes were Black and earning decent grades, so his point was pure nonsense. He was clearly one of those irritating people who cries racism at every perceived injustice even in situations where it quite decidedly is not the case. He wouldn’t let up and kept asserting that Bill had done all the work himself despite the fact that he was incapable of replicating any of those sentences on his own, AND the head teacher of the World Language department had reviewed his work and agreed that he’d most certainly used an online translator. He said that he didn’t want anybody to lose their job, but people like me shouldn’t be teaching. Again, he repeated the preposterous accusation about me wanting to keep Black boys down.
Bill was his parents’ youngest child and only boy. He had two older sisters who were in their 30s (which leads me to believe that he was probably a change of life baby). He was coddled & spoiled and could do no wrong in his parents’ eyes. He was not really a bad kid, but he was annoyingly immature and disruptive. During the meeting, I remember suppressing the urge to tell the father, “I hope Bill likes orange, because that’s what he’ll be wearing if you blindly defend him every time he does something wrong and never learns to be responsible and honest.” Instead I said something aptly professional and diplomatic. He mentioned his annoyance at my calmness. One of us had to keep our head. What did he want, a screaming match. You got the wrong teacher, pops.
Most of my students’ parents were reasonable and supportive, but every year, I had one ridiculous parent who was a hassle to deal with. That year, he was the one.
Bill should be about 21 years old now. I wonder what he’s up to these days.
January 18, 2019
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