I'm sitting down to write this column as the last and final distraction to keep from grading a pile of student essays. I've already done a load of laundry, cleaned out a junk drawer, and trimmed the claws of all three of my cats. I even organized the stuff under the kitchen and bathroom sinks. I found a bottle of furniture polish in the back with a price tag dated 1994.
A few days ago, I actually flirted with the idea of canceling my class tomorrow just so I wouldn't have to give the papers back and I would give myself two more days to put off grading them. In truth, I would never really cancel class just for that. I would cancel the class period following the one where I handed back the papers, as a celebration of getting the papers graded.
Of course, I'm exaggerating -- at least the part about canceling class. In my 13 years as an adjunct, I can count on almost one hand the times I've cut class, and none of them had anything to do with grading. I'm not exaggerating, however, about finding absolutely anything to do instead of grading those blasted essays. It only gets worse at the end of the semester when everything starts to come due. So, here are some tips on getting this particular pile of work done with the least possible drain on your life and sanity. It's advice I don't always follow in my own adjunct life, mind you, but it's good advice nonetheless.
A good place to start is by setting a reasonable time frame for returning the graded material to the students. When I say "reasonable," I mean both for you and for the students.
Most students want their papers back sooner rather than later, but you shouldn't feel obligated to get them back as soon as the students want them back. At the same time, it's not really fair to make students submit another assignment before they've learned how they did on the previous one, so try to return their papers or tests at least a few class periods before their next assignment is due.
But make sure that you give yourself time to get the grading done without having to say no to everything fun in your life for a week. For the last several years, I've used a two-week rule in my humanities courses. I have 40 students in each class, which translates into about 80 papers due on the same day. When I ask students to write a five-page essay, I give their papers back no later than two weeks from the date they were submitted, and I tell the students not to ask about the papers at all unless the deadline comes and I haven't kept my part of the bargain.
Decide what time frame works for you, based on the nature of the assignment and the numbers of students you have. Once you've decided, tell the students so they know what to expect -- and tell them not to bug you about it -- then hold yourself accountable.
When it comes to actually grading the assignments, you can go several different ways. How well any of those approaches work for you depends on how able you are to resist distractions. All sorts of factors -- like the mood you're in, the weather, what's on television -- can exert a pull on your attention that may change from hour to hour.
As I see it, you have two options. The first is to take your papers and get away from everything you know and love. Lock yourself in a plain office without food, books, a telephone, or Internet access. Find an abandoned corner in the library, or go to the back booth of a run-down diner and ask the waiter to simply refill your coffee cup every 15 minutes or so.
I have an adjunct friend who actually shuts herself in the bathroom and reclines in the bathtub to grade her papers. She throws them over the side of the tub onto the tile floor, one by one, as she gets them done. Whatever works.
If cutting yourself off doesn't work for you, do the opposite: Surround yourself with everything you know and love as support props for your grading. Brew your favorite coffee or tea, fix a plate of your favorite snacks, and sit in your favorite overstuffed chair or at your favorite desk. Use your best pencils or pens, wear your most comfortable clothes, and settle in. When you feel the rancor rise within you from something a student wrote or didn't write, stop yourself and look around the room. Feel the warmth coming from the cushions, or eat another chocolate-chip cookie, or pet the cat in your lap. Feel the rancor subside, and return to the student's paper with genuine caring and concern in your heart.
You may have to use both of these strategies alternately in order to finish the same pile of papers. You may be just fine for a while surrounded by everything you love, but then suddenly your grading power drains away and you fall asleep for two hours with the cat in the comfy leather chair. Then you have to steel yourself and go to the other extreme.
This happened to me a while ago, except that I wasn't inside in a nice chair. I was outside, looking out over a lake, with my dog lying in the grass beside me. Things were going well; the pile of papers in my lap was shrinking. But then a few flocks of geese flew over, honking a greeting to their winter home in Texas and glittering like diamonds in the sunny sky. I was lost for good. My grading power evaporated into the atmosphere, along with the geese, and I felt the urge to join my yellow dog in the grass for a nap. I had to make the hard decision and go lock myself inside my house with nothing nice at all.
Of course, all grading is easier if you don't procrastinate. Ideally, you do a little bit of it every day and get it back to your students when you told them you would, with your integrity and your sanity intact. I've advocated this for years, but have rarely done it. When I have, it's worked like gangbusters.
Unfortunately, I didn't do it this time, and I've got a big pile of papers still left to grade. I'm not sure which way to go -- Zen and spare, or familiar and comforting.
Maybe I'll tell my students my dog ate their papers.
