Our college is due for an uprising. A passionate, conscientious and humanitarian rebel faction of students is bound to take a stand and soon. That’s not the worst that could happen, and it’s not the most realistic prospect either. Most likely, our students will continue to receive inflammatory and rude treatment from certain faculty members, and the young people that make up the majority of this campus will learn more than academics: they’ll learn that immaturity, pettiness, rudeness and all around un-neighborliness is acceptable behavior among grown, professional adults.
When I go to a sporting event, a movie theatre, or even a mall, I expect to run into a less-than-friendly person either behind the sales counter or in line as a customer. As an American and a member of our individually-minded society, I expect to deal with difficult people generally wherever I go. And as a customer service associate at my weekend job, I’m paid to interact with sometimes irate customers.
At my college campus, however, where I feel proud to matriculate and the decal of which is prominently displayed on my car, I expect a higher level of humanism and familiarity. Montgomery College has been around a long time, and has acquired a long list of happy alumni and a reputation for giving a lot of bang for the buck. Lately, though, I find that many of the professional representatives at our school seem to have burnt out on their enthusiasm, which is admittedly wearing at my own enthusiasm as well.
During Welcome Week, I was publicly harassed by an extremely unhappy employee of the college. When I helped myself to an unattended bun selection at the free food buffet, I received a disturbing assault from the main steward who seemed to be personally affronted. She demanded the bun back, and said tartly, “I hope your food is clean.” She kept making loud, snide comments until I walked away.
Not even a week later, I held the elevator door for a woman who was in a hurry. When the elevator doors closed, she explained most hotly that the elevators were for faculty and disabled students only. While the other five people in the elevator said nothing, including a girl in a wheelchair, the young man behind me apologized for his use of the elevator. The annoyed woman explained that the policy was to protect faculty because they carried a lot of books. I replied, “So do the students. What a coincidence.” She said, “Well, I don’t think they carry nearly as much.” Her thoughtless and irreverent error in judgment aside, it was very snarky of her to criticize the users of the elevator. Maybe we were late to class, or had a bad foot, or perhaps – could it even be possible – we were carrying a lot of books.
Alas, I went along my business.
Next, I visited the Math and Science Learning Center beneath the library. While I can expect to encounter some understandably distrustful computer administrators, I feel fairly unmolested there. That is, as long as I remember to sign in and bring my student ID and limit my activity to homework only and don’t sit at a tutor’s computer station (they’re not even labeled) and don’t speak loudly and do not leave with a textbook unless I’m signed out and certainly not for longer than 15 minutes and only if I’m Xeroxing…
You get the point. I go there because I can’t afford a $175 textbook. I was told that I was able to copy it or scan it and the scanning was free. I asked where I could take the book to be scanned, and the monitors at the checkout had no idea. They suggested the library, and as soon as I signed a little note to say I was coming back, I went off to find it. The scanner wasn’t in the library or the computer lab downstairs. I did manage to find it after what felt like a wild goose chase (F.Y.I. it’s in the Humanities building computer lab, and the stewards there are actually extremely helpful - maybe because they’re students?). After I figured out how to use the scanner and finished my business, I had been gone for about 50 minutes. Knowing the note I signed promised me back in 15, I was ready to apologize for being out so long.
Upon returning, I found that my student ID used to rent out the book had been confiscated by an administrator. I recognized her as the monitor that angrily asked me not to sit at the tutor desks (even though they’re unmarked). She proceeded to lecture me about policy, while I attempted to explain my lengthy checkout. After all, if it takes more than 15 minutes to even find the Mysterious Free Scanner, maybe they should change their policy. Regardless, my “situation” was “unique,” and she brought me to her supervisor, to whom she handed my ID and checkout agreement form.
> Her supervisor, Carol B____, was very upset after learning what I had done. She continued the lecture on policy, and was very suspicious of me. “Why did you need to scan it? What were you going to do with it after you scanned it?”
“Well, I needed to copy several pages but I don’t have two and a half dollars to dump into the copier. It’s my homework.”
She started talking about copyright infringement and more about policy. I was incredulous. We can copy it until our hearts are content as long as we pay fifteen cents a page but we can’t scan it unless we can manage to find the Mysterious Free Scanner and not print it out or email it to ourselves and still get the information we need and all in under 15 minutes? Sounds like the beginning of an infomercial to be skeptical of.
I tried to explain my predicament, and I chose to explain that I couldn’t afford to just buy the book, but she wouldn’t hear of it. She rose from her chair and continued arguing with me, threatening to suspend my privileges there. Privileges? Didn’t I already pay tuition for these resources? I can understand revoking someone’s rights if they proved to be unreasonable and disrespectful, but I felt totally and unjustly affronted.
After I left, I mulled over these connected events. Did these people just have a bad day? Or a bad week? How can they think that kind of behavior is okay? With actions that ranged from cranky and resentful, to more disrespectful and downright insulting, I still can’t believe that I’m retelling the stories of Montgomery College faculty behavior. Where is the pride, the compassion, the brotherly understanding that a community college is expected to exhibit?
Upon asking some students if they’ve had similar experiences, I received numerous responses. Elodie Z___ has had difficulties with the student services representatives. “Those people are so angry all the time, like they’re always having a bad day.” It puts her in a bad mood, she says.
Eric Hadzima agrees. “It makes me want to say something smart back, but I know that won’t get me anywhere. It just makes me feel hopeless, like nothing will ever change. It feels like high school again. I can see things from their perspective, why can’t they see things from the students’ perspective? We’re juggling books and math problems and essays and we have bad days too. But I don’t act like a jerk over it.”
Why does it seem like there is a war going on between faculty and students, like a high school drama? College should be co-operative, because students, staff, and faculty need one another equally.
I don’t have a lot of stories about abusive students to offer, because I rarely see it occur. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen, but the faculty are the professional representatives of adulthood, and they are currently representing themselves very poorly. Not only do they set examples and serve as role models of behavior for young students, but they are representing Montgomery College as a whole. It reflects very negatively on the college.
It certainly doesn’t sound like students are “the center of our universe,” or that the college is somewhere you can experience “intelligent dialogue,” according to MC’s mission statement. How about “holding ourselves accountable” and being “inspiring?” Lastly, “our internal spirits” need some serious attention. The college is not “welcoming,” or “compassionate” and certainly not “service-oriented,” or “enthusiastic,” “celebratory,” and definitely not “respectful” and “fun.”
Our members of the MC family, students and faculty alike, need to be reminded of the brotherliness upon which MC was founded, and also of the values quoted in our mission statement. We all just need to have a little more respect, and a willingness to serve others.
Evin Maria Eldridge
Staff Writer
Posts
