Hmmm HMMM! Hemm hemm HEMMMMMM. I have something to say. Briefly.
And it is not that I just wiped soy sauce on my keyboard in excitement (though it's somehow deeply satisfying having a salty T R and Y. Some sort of hilarious hypertension-themed pun in the making here). And not an apology because I am starting sentences with "and", in total awesome defiance of everything I ever learnt in intermediate school. (A summarized list of which would run; Don't give 480 eleven year olds scooters; Don't expect to study medicine if you managed to break your nose doing a cartwheel; Don't be the teacher who gets a tampon stuck in a pump bottle while trying to teach health class and horrifies 35 tiny pre-pubescents and NEVER start a sentence with the A word. Alright.)
It is about... mature students. Ohmigosh!
This morning in class; there was a mature student. This particular mature student is of the "I am taking this paper as an interest paper, have not a clue what anyone is talking about, spent the last ten minutes of discussion explaining my allergies (or cats names. I assume.) in some detail to neighbouring small, vaguely frightened, asian student BUT despite your nerdy and extensive lit review (heh heh. "lit". heh), the summary of which you have just presented to the class in 25 minutes with 82 references, I Believe That You Are Wrong Because; when I gave birth to my second child, yes the one with the congenital herpes, I didn't like bananas anymore. And my eldest did, you know. And he had had asthma since we moved from Corstophine! And that wasn't just the cat. No, the one who wasn't run over by the milk-truck driver that we later found out was my uncle's dead cousin. Off Shortland Street. Soooo.... you really should go back and re-evaluate your study hypothesis. You know?"
The one who claimed "well MY education wasn't formed on positivist principles!" And then followed that up with the winning; "some scientists believe in god. And it could affect their research".
Someone get that woman on TED. A to the sap.
So, in deference to my small, sad brain, I wrote a short rap about it.
It's a truism that sometimes years don't bring wisdom to the wise
Your lack of formal secondary schooling and gender studies research shines through vapid eyes
When you say "I don't have a background in positivism"; that's a schism
When you fight for god in epi class, it's qualitative fundamentalism.*
Enjoy. When you hear a nasal voice pipe up from the front on a monday morning when it is five minutes to eleven, possibly on the importance of emphasising the underappreciated** place of strong anecdotal evidence in the empirically-based research paradigm (oh, STRONG anecdotal? That is just fine then!) you may hum a wee bit under your breath. Or add a stanza. You know?
Grrr!
Ruby.
(moderately angrily on a Monday morning)
* there was another stanza. I, very sensibly, left it out.
** new word new word yay yay yay!
And it is not that I just wiped soy sauce on my keyboard in excitement (though it's somehow deeply satisfying having a salty T R and Y. Some sort of hilarious hypertension-themed pun in the making here). And not an apology because I am starting sentences with "and", in total awesome defiance of everything I ever learnt in intermediate school. (A summarized list of which would run; Don't give 480 eleven year olds scooters; Don't expect to study medicine if you managed to break your nose doing a cartwheel; Don't be the teacher who gets a tampon stuck in a pump bottle while trying to teach health class and horrifies 35 tiny pre-pubescents and NEVER start a sentence with the A word. Alright.)
It is about... mature students. Ohmigosh!
This morning in class; there was a mature student. This particular mature student is of the "I am taking this paper as an interest paper, have not a clue what anyone is talking about, spent the last ten minutes of discussion explaining my allergies (or cats names. I assume.) in some detail to neighbouring small, vaguely frightened, asian student BUT despite your nerdy and extensive lit review (heh heh. "lit". heh), the summary of which you have just presented to the class in 25 minutes with 82 references, I Believe That You Are Wrong Because; when I gave birth to my second child, yes the one with the congenital herpes, I didn't like bananas anymore. And my eldest did, you know. And he had had asthma since we moved from Corstophine! And that wasn't just the cat. No, the one who wasn't run over by the milk-truck driver that we later found out was my uncle's dead cousin. Off Shortland Street. Soooo.... you really should go back and re-evaluate your study hypothesis. You know?"
The one who claimed "well MY education wasn't formed on positivist principles!" And then followed that up with the winning; "some scientists believe in god. And it could affect their research".
Someone get that woman on TED. A to the sap.
So, in deference to my small, sad brain, I wrote a short rap about it.
It's a truism that sometimes years don't bring wisdom to the wise
Your lack of formal secondary schooling and gender studies research shines through vapid eyes
When you say "I don't have a background in positivism"; that's a schism
When you fight for god in epi class, it's qualitative fundamentalism.*
Enjoy. When you hear a nasal voice pipe up from the front on a monday morning when it is five minutes to eleven, possibly on the importance of emphasising the underappreciated** place of strong anecdotal evidence in the empirically-based research paradigm (oh, STRONG anecdotal? That is just fine then!) you may hum a wee bit under your breath. Or add a stanza. You know?
Grrr!
Ruby.
(moderately angrily on a Monday morning)
* there was another stanza. I, very sensibly, left it out.
** new word new word yay yay yay!
No comments:
Post a Comment