Chronicle of Higher Education

 From the issue dated April 14, 2006

The 7 Deadly Sins of Students

Undergraduates increasingly seem to choose self-indulgence and 
self-esteem over
self-denial and self-questioning

By THOMAS H. BENTON

I've been teaching for about 10 years now, and, of course, I was a 
student for
20 years before that. So I have some experience observing my students' 
sins, and
perhaps even more experience committing them.

The sins that I see in the everyday life of the typical college student 
are not
great ones. Most of the time, they don't seem like "sins" at all, even 
if one
accepts the religious significance of the term. But they spring from 
thoughts
and behaviors that, over time, become habits.

Enabled by institutions, students repeatedly take the path of least 
resistance,
imagining they are making creative compromises with duty that express their
unique talents. So they choose self-indulgence instead of self-denial, and
self-esteem instead of self-questioning. They do not understand that those
choices will eventually cause more unhappiness than the more difficult paths
they chose not to walk.

The traditional model of the "Seven Deadly Sins" provides a helpful means of
categorizing — and perhaps simplifying — the complicated and cumulative
experience I am trying to describe:

Sloth: Students often postpone required readings and assigned preparations,
making it hard for them to understand their classes the next day. Gradually,
lectures and discussions that were once interesting start to seem boring and
irrelevant, and the temptation to skip classes becomes greater and greater,
especially when the classes are in the morning. Sometimes students 
arrive late
with — in my opinion — insufficient shame, closing the door behind them 
with a
bang. Slothful students regard themselves as full of potential, and so 
they make
a bargain: "I will be lazy now, but I will work hard later." Like St. 
Augustine,
students say to themselves, "Let me be chaste, but not yet." More on 
lust later.

Greed: Students often pursue degrees not for the sake of learning itself but
with the aim of getting a better-paying job, so they can buy a bigger 
house and
fancier cars than those owned by their parents and their neighbors. That 
often
leads to greed for grades that they have not earned. Some students cheat on
exams or plagiarize their papers; others, sometimes the most diligent, 
harass
professors into giving them grades unjustified by their performance. The 
goal of
such cheaters and grade-grubbers is not the reality of achievement but the
appearance of it. They will then apply to graduate programs or 
entry-level jobs
that they do not really desire and for which they are not really 
qualified. They
want to be lawyers, but they are bored by law courses. They want to be 
doctors,
but they do not care about healing people. They want to go into 
business, not to
provide useful products and services, but to get rich by any means 
necessary.
And so they come to believe that no one has integrity and that there is 
no basis
— other than the marketplace — by which value can be judged.

Anger: Seemingly more often than in the past, professors encounter 
students who
are angered by challenging assignments, which they label — with bureaucratic
self-assurance — "unfair" or even "discriminatory." When students do not
succeed, they sometimes conclude that their professors are "out to get them"
because of some vague prejudice. Students feel entitled to deference by
professors who "work for them and should act like it." They do not come to
office hours for clarification about an A-; instead, they argue that 
they are
paying a lot of money and, therefore, deserve a high grade, and, if you 
don't
give it to them, they will "complain to management," as if they were sending
back food in a restaurant. One hears rumors of cars and homes vandalized by
angry students. But perhaps the easiest places to find uncensored 
student rage
are the anonymous, libelous evaluations of faculty members found online 
at Web
sites such as RateMyProfessors.com. Often those evaluations say less 
about the
quality of a teacher than they do about the wounded pride of coddled 
students.
More on that topic soon.

Lust: I have seen students come to classes barefoot, with bare midriffs and
shoulders, in boxer shorts, bathing suits, and other kinds of clothes 
that, even
by fairly casual standards, are more appropriate for streetwalking than 
higher
learning. When did liberation from uniforms transform itselfinto the social
demand that one prepare to be ogled in the classroom? It is hardly a 
surprise
that on RateMyProfessors.com, students are asked to rate their professors'
"hotness" — in other words, the teachers' worthiness to be sexually 
fantasized
about by bored students. Even in high-school classes, as an observer of 
novice
teachers, I have overheard lewd remarks about female teachers from 
denizens of
the back row who fear no rebuke because none is forthcoming from the current
culture.

Gluttony: It hardly needs saying that most colleges struggle to control 
alcohol
consumption by students and the embarrassing incidents and tragedies 
that result
from it. But there are other manifestations of gluttony these days. For 
example,
when did it become acceptable for students to eat and drink in class as 
if they
were sitting in a cafeteria? Nowadays, I occasionally encounter a 
student who
thinks it's OK to consume a large, messy, and odorous meal in class. I 
once saw
a student eat an entire rotisserie chicken, a tub of mashed potatoes 
with gravy,
several biscuits, and an enormous soft drink during the first 10 minutes 
of a
lecture. I felt like a jester in the court of Henry VIII. It seems hard 
these
days to find a student in class whose mouth is not stuffed with food. Such
students will often say that they have no other time to eat, but previous
generations — who were no less busy — managed to consume small snacks 
between
classes. That is why colleges have vending machines.

Envy: I think competition is a good thing in education; up to a point, it
encourages students to work harder and excel. But the envious student, 
perhaps
daunted by some temporary setback, comes to believe that education is "a 
rigged
game." Envy is the voice of resignation that cringes at the success of one's
peers: "Listen to her, trying to impress the teacher, like she's so 
brilliant. I
hate her." Envy is the feeling that no one "earns" anything because 
there are no
objective criteria of accomplishment; and, as a result, success and 
failure seem
to be based on political and personal preferences. But envy is not 
limited to
differences in effort and ability. Even more pervasive is a sense of 
unjustified
economic inequality, but, it seems to me, the fashionable students in their
convertibles who jeer the commuters at the bus stop commit a greater sin 
than
those who envy their money.

Pride: I once asked a group of 20 students how many thought they were 
"better
than their parents"? All of them raised their hands. I didn't ask, but I 
assume
they all believed they were better than their teachers too. They would rise
higher, be more successful, and transcend the limitations of their 
elders. We
read this belief in our students' expressions: "What you know is not worth
learning. They're just your opinions anyway. I am young. I have infinite
potential. You are old. And you're just a college professor. But I will 
be rich
and famous someday." They have rarely been given a realistic assessment 
of their
abilities and prospects. Out of this pride — nurtured by the purveyors of
unearned self-esteem, personal grievance, dumbed-down courses, and inflated
grades (often in the guise of liberality) — the opportunity to earn an 
education
is squandered by prideful students who can make a potential heaven seem like
hell.

The concept of the "Seven Deadly Sins" comes out of the Christian 
tradition, but
it also has value as an ethical guide or at least as a means of avoiding
unhappiness. Increasingly, as a professor who teaches undergraduates, I 
believe
that one of the paramount purposes of a liberal-arts education is to 
help young
people acquire the wisdom to escape those sins, especially the last one from
which the others often spring.

A liberal-arts education, as I see it, is not about acquiring wealth and
opportunities to further indulge one's desires. Nor is it about 
cultivating in
students an insular, idolatrous view of their nation, ethnic group, 
gender, or
religion. It is also not about celebrating the so-called "great 
tradition" of
authors, philosophers, and artists.

It is about the recognition, ultimately, of how little one really knows, 
or can
know. A liberal-arts education, most of all, fights unmerited pride by 
asking
students to recognize the smallness of their ambitions in the context of 
human
history, and more. Whether it is grounded in faith or not, a liberal-arts
education should help students to combat the Seven Deadly Sins with the 
"Seven
Contrary Virtues" of diligence, generosity, patience, chastity, moderation,
contentment, and, most important of all, humility.

Of course, moral perfection seldom arrives at graduation, even in the 
best of
cases. I teach the courses, and yet I must present myself, at last, as the
"Chief of Sinners." The behaviors I observe in students often reflect 
the deeper
drives — the resentments and weaknesses — of their teachers. Perhaps the 
impulse
to identify the sins of others reflects a corruption more serious than any I
have described here. And that is why, next month, I will sermonize on 
the "Seven
Deadly Sins of Professors."

Thomas H. Benton is the pseudonym of a soon-to-be associate professor of 
English
at a Midwestern liberal-artscollege.

http://chronicle.com
Section: Chronicle Careers
Volume 52, Issue 32, Page C1


 
Yahoo! Groups Links

<*> To visit your group on the web, go to:
    http://groups.yahoo.com/group/apsjkt8w/

<*> To unsubscribe from this group, send an email to:
    [EMAIL PROTECTED]

<*> Your use of Yahoo! Groups is subject to:
    http://docs.yahoo.com/info/terms/
 


Kirim email ke