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November 1, 2001 - 11:56 am

'Trailar' Park Writers

Blurf. Is there such a thing as a 72 hour cold that comes on strong, goes away for a day, and then returns to finish the job? If so, I think I'm catching the encore. It's time for the miracle of Zinc to work its' special magic.

GOOD. FUCKING. LORD.

That's the only expression that adequately captures the shock I felt yesterday in my Science, Technology, and Society class. See, two weeks ago, our professor, the bafflingly air guitar obsessed Mr. Ramblepants (also known as Dr. Davis, a last name which doesn't do justice to his tendency to tangent off into the furthest known recesses of human bullshitting) asked us to give him four pages on the stem cell debate. I dutifully complied, supplying four pages that were, if not brilliant, then at least very good. I explained the science behind stem cells, dived into the hullaballoo surrounding the controversy, and crossed the finish line with my opinion on the whole murk, just as the assignment asked. Good paper.

So, we get our papers back yesterday. My paper was littered wih pen marks aplenty that vaguely resembled the handwriting of a human. Interspersed, seemingly at random, were short messages that seemed encouraging and positive. Messages such as 'Yes! Yes!' and 'Now you've got it!' These messages did not appear next to any passage in the paper that seemed logical. OK, fine. Thanks, I guess, Dr. Davis. His big message to me, however, was the topper.

From the bottom of the first page, Dr. Davis' note to me, verbatim, his spelling intact:

"Bill! You are a trailar park writer! Not high class in any stretch of the imagination. Just a good ol' boy. But, if you read between the line, you just might find a nugget!"

Again, I say: GOOD. FUCKING. LORD. To that, I add: FUCK YOU, SIR!

I was blown away. I am a writing major. I have not written anything in my academic career as a writing major that did not get an 'A,' both scripts for TV and essays for academics included. Was this man insane? Clearly, he was.

I asked for an explanation. He assured me that my paper was good. Good? I told him that I do not commonly associate 'trailar' parks with things that are good. Again, he says that he liked my paper and that I did a good job. I responded that there was no letter grade on this paper. Does 'trailar park writer' mean that this is 'A' work? He diplomatically states that everyone did a good job on their paper.

I sit down, baffled, wondering whether it is I who has been transported into Dr. Davis' universe, or he who has invaded mine. I share my experience with the guy next to me. He flips to the third page of his own paper, where the good doctor helpfully inscribed "No f------ way!" next to his conclusion. 'Hmm. Classy of Dr. Davis to destroy someone's self esteem while nicely sparing them the mental trauma of seeing the word 'fucking' written in its' entirety,' I thought.

I have to admit, at first I was a bit pissed off that Davis had the balls to say something like that about my writing. That didn't last long, though, as I quickly concluded that the man was an idiot who had no idea what he was talking about. I know that was a decent paper. As I walked to the el after class, a thought occured to me. Not that I would, but if I really wanted to, I could turn this into quite a ruckus. What if Dr. Davis were a white man (he's black) who wrote on a black student's paper that he was a 'ghetto ass writer?' If that were the case, his comments could definitely be construed as classist, if not outright racist. I guarantee that, at this college, something like that would cause an uproar. The man ought to watch what he writes as comments.

On top of that, the dumb bastard handed out course evaluations the same day as he gave us back our papers. I'm sure that a lot of students were a lot more honest than they would have normally been. I know I didn't pull any punches. 'Trailar' park, indeed.

On another note, is it wrong to have a cold and want to go out and get bloody drunk? I'd say not.

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