I Would Prefer Not To

This summer I had a student who reminded me of the title character in Herman Melville's short story Bartleby the Scrivener. Bartleby is the law firm copyist who reaches a point that when asked to do anything, he replies, "I would prefer not to." Bartleby even "prefers not to" get his things and leave after being fired. His boss actually moves the law offices to escape him!

My Bartleby was a middle-aged woman named Tonya, whose stock response to any new assignment was "I don't understand." I would ask, patiently at first, "What exactly don't you understand?" But she never had an answer. Instead, she would say something like, "My niece is a straight A student at NYU and she doesn't understand this assignment either" or "I showed this to a lawyer at work, and even he can't figure out what you want me to do." I am long past being intimidated when students fabricate individuals who are meant to make me look stupid, so I asked what exactly these two obviously intelligent people couldn't figure out. But Tonya still didn't have an answer. I try not to say anything too crushing to students, so I avoided pointing out that her 24 colleagues in class—none of whom were straight A students at northeastern universities or lawyers—were completing those very same assignments without duress.

One day, Tonya asked if she could come to my office to talk about the course. Such a request is student code for "I want to explain all of my personal problems—in private so that none of the other students will exclaim that they actually have life worse. Then you can feel sorry for me and not grade my work so hard." At our meeting, she explained that she had two other classes, both in a strip mall school, which, if I am to believe 60 Minutes, was only interested in arranging exorbitant loans so that the students can pay for overpriced classes. Once students have registered, the school accepts pretty much anything as course work to motivate the students to spend even more money the following semester in their pursuit of a worthless degree.

In the short story, Bartleby's boss never figures out why his once promising employee becomes a vagrant whom the cops have to arrest and cart off to jail. I, however, did understand Tonya's mantra. What Tonya was really saying is "I don't understand why you are actually reading my papers. I don't understand why I have to make sense. I don't understand why I should have to proofread so long as the paper meets the word requirement. I don't understand why I can't just hand something in as I do at Strip Mall U. and get my A for the course."

Many people pay for classes not to acquire new learning or skill. They believe that their dollars—not their time, not their hard work, not their ability to demonstrate mastery—entitle them to a grade. A good grade at that! In effect, they would "prefer not to" learn. And honestly, I would prefer not to have them taking up a seat in the course.