Give me your worst, I can take it

It should be standard practice for professors to notify students of their final assessment grades without having to be asked. Students often submit final essays, projects and exams and are left to estimate their performance based on how their known, prior course grades fit in with the letter stamped on their transcript. It sends the wrong message to terminate the student-professor dialogue once there are no further assignments or class meeting times around which to modulate our collective degree of exerted effort. It sends the message that these classes are less about having your strengths and weaknesses identified and more about reupholstering your GPA and fulfilling distribution requirements.

Are our professors only releasing feedback and grades up until the final so we feel satisfied that, as we attend class every day, our end of the bargain is upheld? Or, are we doing the work to see where we err, so we may apply our learning to other areas of our liberal arts education? Having to meet my cold, demanding gaze in class the next day should not be the only reason why my work is returned to me with any sense of urgency. Many of us will never see our work criticized constructively after these four undergraduate years. Our work, and ourselves, will only be judged at the professional level. I believe the criticism given back to us should accurately reflect the amount of work put into a semester. 

Many of us understand that with solid enough work submitted before the final, our grade buffer will insure against a B even if we choose to inadequately prepare for the final. That's fine and normal, but I think I should also be left with the choice to see what my professors really think about my final work and what it can only logically reflect: me, and my character. I am exactly the type of dastardly student who would cut himself a generous amount of slack on the final because he was able to swing a few inflated A’s on his earlier coursework. I shouldn't totally get away with that. The final becomes busy work once we set our sights little higher than the minimum threshold for an A, and, in turn, the cohesive properties of our liberal arts education lose some sticking points. It is all too possible that I was logically fallacious in several areas of my final assessment, wrote something really quite glaring, offensive, or insensitive, or (heaven forbid) wrote something truly wonderful, something deserving of encouragement and shepherding toward similar caliber work. In fact, I should be entitled to these potential harsh few sentences of criticism if it means I won't be let entirely off the hook for my corner cutting. Let the letter grade reflect the average of my semester's work, but I ought to be exposed to the intellectual scrutiny of those much older and smarter than myself. 

Although I get all squeamish at the idea of asking my professors to do the work they could have gotten away with ignoring at the semester’s end, the prospect of summers off does ease my conscience. If on my end, it makes me feel like I’ve beat the system, I can only imagine how squirrelly (and great) it must feel to skim the final works of students you likely won't teach again, like canceling plans you never wanted to commit to in the first place and then turning on airplane mode. I could track down my professors, go to their office hours during the following term and ask them to cough it up, though I'd likely be met with a multi-business-day turnaround time, and I'd feel like a jerk. I don't wish to cut into my professors' break plans, but, if it's any consolation, faculty, you can keep the paper copies and do whatever you'd like with them. All I ask for is a scanned PDF, a brief email or a little bit of closure on the course. 

Those who care about their feedback and grade on a final, culminating assessment shouldn't have to demand what feels like pro bono work from their professor once the semester's over. The rest who care for little more than their final course grade should have the opportunity to stick to their guns — to receive feedback of any type and disregard it equally so long as the averages add up favorably or at least fairly. Even if I don't particularly want to see my grade or be reminded of my shortcomings, I know that I’ve often rejected what’s best for me. I want comfort and blissful ignorance, but I must be deprived of these things. Tie me to the mast and make me aware of the grade’s availability. Let my classmates plug their ears with wax and turn off Outlook notifications between semesters, but let the grades and feedback be known without making me feel as though I've assigned my professors an extracurricular well into their professional lives. If Middlebury is to realize President Baucom’s vision of being the best liberal arts institution in the world, then our student body and faculty shouldn't be tacitly colluding to all do just a little less work, teaching and learning.