Plagiarism: The New Gateway Drug

Today I was trapped in a professional development seminar disguised as an informal discussion about millennial students. Many of the other faculty members in the room were around my same age--Gen-Xers. The presenter claimed to be Gen-X, too. But when he let fly his birth year, I experienced an "Oh no" moment. Never would I consider someone born just five years after my own mother a member of my generation. I think he may have been misinformed.

As were many of my colleagues. The woman sitting immediately behind and to the right of me became indignant when the presenter said, "This is a cut-and-paste generation. They don't see anything wrong with having information on the internet at their fingertips and copying it into an assignment and turning it in for a grade." The indignant woman scoffed and said, "I just don't understand what's wrong with plagiarizing in a class that's not part of their major."

"Oh no" moment numero dos.

I calmly turned around (read: my face immediately began to burn and I whipped my head around so fast I nearly gave myself whiplash) and said, "I just read an article about what we're really doing in the classroom. What we're really doing when we're teaching about plagiarism is teaching about integrity." (Okay, it's a blog post, not an article. Sue me.)

As I said this, my voice rose. I tried very hard to stay in my seat and not rip the face off of Little Miss Plagiarism.

Some of the other people in the room tried to come to my aid and began to make statements about plagiarism, probably because I was the only General Education person in the room--and the only English instructor--and my annoyance with Little Miss Plagiarism was pretty apparent.

To everyone but Little Miss Plagiarism who said, "But it's just words. Who cares about taking someone else's words?"

"It's intellectual property," I snapped. I could've gotten up on my I'm-A-Writer high horse and turned her comment into an attack on me personally, but by then I was so angry and fuming I couldn't even think about myself. "It's about teaching them not to steal. To be good people."

"Words don't harm people," Little Miss Plagiarism continued. "What does it hurt to take someone else's words?"

"Tell Snowdon that," I said. Granted, not my finest analogy. I probably should've said, "The pen is mightier than the sword," or pointed to The Declaration of the Rights of Women and the Female Citizen or The Declaration of Independence or The Fugitive Slave Law (or any law for that matter). But by then I was willing myself not to clobber this woman.

And I suddenly found myself having "Oh no" moment number 3: She probably plagiarized her way through undergrad (maybe even grad school, too), and was voicing a "what's good for the goose is good for the gander" opinion without mentioning her goosey behavior.

I couldn't even look at Little Miss Plagiarism anymore. I was sitting with my arms crossed staring at the large screen at the front of the room where the presenter's slideshow was stalled on the big red print "'Cut and paste' mentality."

The discussion swirled around me, forming a toxic bullshit cloud that I was sure was going to float out of the room, across campus, and into the President's office so he could then say, "Thank goodness they all agree that plagiarism is a practice our students should avoid," before going on with his more important tasks. Because what seemed to be going on was lip service. I hoped my colleagues actually believed what they were saying about the necessity to keep our students from plagiarizing and not simply disagreeing to save face, but I didn't think they were. Somehow, I was sure I was the only person in the room that actually cared about language. About integrity. About thinking.

Because that's what plagiarism does--it removes the necessity of thought. It keeps the plagiarizer from flexing his/her mental muscles and turns them into an intellectual weakling. Millennials are going to end up as the generation that explains why they think what they think by saying, "Wikepedia told me."

Especially with teachers and mentors like Little Miss Plagiarism, who seem to think that intellectual darkness is fine and dandy. If I'd had my wits about me, instead of my temper, I might've hyperbolized and mentioned something about The Dark Ages.

As it was, when I finally regained enough composure to enter the discussion again, I said, "Students plagiarize once and get away with it, so then they do it again and again."

A minute later, someone else said the exact same thing. Which lead me to "Oh no" moment number 4: No one was listening to me. Which lead me to "Oh no" number 5: I was right about lip service.

The presenter interjected with an analogy: "You wouldn't steal someone's car, would you? So why would you steal their words?"

I looked down at my lap. I couldn't believe I was in a room with people who had to reduce the explanation of plagiarism to grand theft auto.

So fell my idea of the intellectual utopia. Which, if I'm being honest with myself, is an idea that began to crumble long before Little Miss Plagiarism made her comment. And it has nothing to do with millennial students. And everything to do with the fact that I seem to continually work around people who don't seem to want to be teaching. They struggle and moan and complain. And never change. They think that teaching is supposed to be easy, something they can throw together while they watch 60 Minutes.

I don't get it.

Little Miss Plagiarism finally said, "So plagiarism is a gateway drug to other bad behavior."

Yes, Little Miss Plagiarism, that's exactly what it is. Now go buy LoJack. And find another profession.

Move to India, Please

Over the next five weeks I’m taking an online class on Blended Learning. Though I vowed when I finished the MFA program at Ole Miss that I would never again take another class, I have a genuine interest in the research and pedagogy of online learning. What an odd interest. I might’ve done better to admit that I’m interested in the treatment intestinal diseases.

But I’ve got kids now and once that happens every brain cell becomes dedicated to making sure they are the most prepared little jelly beans in the world.

Not really.

But I am curious how my children will experience online and/or hybrid classes. 

And—as a complete afterthought—I want to know if what I’m doing/plan to do as an Instructor of English at a secondary institution is helping or hindering the process of student learning, retention, and matriculation.

Over the next five weeks, I’ll be reading short amounts of text. I may post my responses here, I may not. 

In this week's chapter reading I came across this passage which tends to be very telling in terms of what children in India will do with their free time. I thought most children in India were playing the lottery, being sold into slavery and/or prostitution, or learning to be pick-pockets (thank you, American media). Not so:

“Sugata Mitra (2007) details an experiment he conducted in India (now commonly known as the “hole-in-the-wall” experiment) where he placed a computer with an Internet connection in a wall facing a ghetto. Within days children aged 6-12, with minimal education and limited understanding of English, were able to browse the web and perform other tasks – such as drawing – on the computer. The self-taught, minimally-guided nature of the experiment led Mitra to the conclusion that children do not require direct instruction to acquire basic computer literacy skills.” 

Sure, but they require access to a computer and, perhaps, nothing more. Other electronic devices, or distractions such as television and video games, seem to be siphoning American students away from computer-based communication. So really, what needs to happen is that I need to move my kids--and students--to a ghetto in India so they will learn to use a computer on their own.

Recurring problems my colleagues and I face with my college-level students (in the Central Georgia region of the U.S): they don’t have regular access to computer-based learning because they don’t have computers in the home and are not motivated to go to libraries and other facilities to obtain access (their socioeconomic status typically hinders the former); instead, they use their phones (because although they cannot afford computers, they can afford smart phones) to interact, search the net, and perform daily interactions. When they come into my classroom and are expected to use a computer for online instruction, many are baffled by the simple action of word processing. Some of them don’t know how to type. Others don’t know the difference between Word and a browser. Still others don’t know how to save documents to a flash drive. Nearly all of them don’t know how to surf the internet for reliable information (they think Wikipedia is a solution for anything unknown). Many of them don’t know how to attach a document to an email, use proper email etiquette, or remember basic information like their passwords. In short, they fail to gauge the seriousness of using the computer for instruction. I spend a good two weeks of class time doling out these basics with tough love. Essentially weeding out students who are lazy or incapable of following directions. Then the real study in the course begins.

Perhaps instead of a keyboard, if students were given a video game controller they might take online/hybrid instruction more seriously. How ironic. Turn learning into a game and suddenly it becomes important. I wonder what those kids in India would’ve done with a PS3 in-the-wall.

The focus of the reading material this week is Blended Interactions. In short, we're trying to target what might be the best ways to interact with our students in blended (hybrid) classes. At the start of each reading selection our course administrator posts questions to ponder. The one that resonated most with me this week was: 

What factors might limit the feasibility of robust interaction face-to-face or online?

I would never use the word “robust” to describe my teaching or classroom environment in my self-evaluations (“robust” makes me think of a good spaghetti sauce). But I have had very animated, positive, and exceptional discussions in my classes. My students have written award-winning essays. And poems. And stories. I take credit for all of it.

I consider myself technologically ignorant (I still have a landline at home and don’t own a smartphone), so I’m most interested in creating the same experience for my hybrid students as I do for those in courses taught completely face-to-face (f2f).

 

Two more gems from the chapter:

“[S]ome might argue that student interaction with faculty and with other students in the context of learning is an expression of a basic human need”

“[M]inimal guidance is not as effective as guided instruction”

I felt validated when I saw these two phrases in print, with data and research to support them. Not because I want to gloat about having an instinctual “well duh” reaction, but because I’m lazy and have never been able to back-up my “well duh” with data I’ve (never) collected from my successful students. I’ve been too busy facilitating successful classroom interactions to gather data on my successful classroom interactions.

So many people I’ve come across in academia (mostly the ones who dilly-dallied around getting several degrees then didn’t know what else to do so they went into teaching) want to move away from f2f and into a completely online form. They want to replace classroom instruction with tools like D2L or Pearson’s online learning modules. They want to sit at home grading papers at two in the morning, or clock into an office, plop down in front of a computer and collect a paycheck while said computer does all of the work for them.

Then they  bitch about how their jobs are so demanding. That the state of the world is in ruins. How ignorant their students are. They want to move to Europe because America is going to hell.

To them I say: Move to India, instead.

Women Are to Blame for All that is Wrong in Hollywood

Dear Aaron Sorkin,

How on earth were you singled out to represent my beloved hometown? I had no idea who you were until recently when you put your foot directly up your own asshole. Boy, did you save a bunch of women money on new shoes.

I take it you and George Lucas have much in common. His franchise model and marketing strategies have done him--and his growing collection of chins--quite well over the years. And as his pocketbook and neck have grown, the quality of his films has fallen.

You don't seem to be growing a goiter, but you do seem hell-bent on maintaining the status quo of a movie industry that pigeonholes women and blames us for the oh-so-prestigious films created in Hollywood over the last few decades. I'd like to add to that illustrious shortlist, begun by Molly Mulshine. Please explain the following:

• G.I. Joe (1 and 2)
• Transformers (1 and 2)
• The Expendables Series
• All of the Rocky Movies
• The Wolverine
• Spiderman--all of them (both Toby Mcguire and What's-His-Name)

Wait! No explanation needed. I see you've also adopted the Disney model of successful film making--if we shove enough plastic doo-dads down their throats, they'll have to think the movie is genius. Boy, I can't wait for chick flicks to follow this model and become wildly popular.  When the 25th Anniversary Edition DVD of Thelma and Louise is released, I'll finally be able to purchase action figures (with Cadillac expander pack and Brad Pitt accessory doll) to accompany my obsession with this estrogen-driven production. Perhaps we'll soon see a Dr. Ryan Stone doll that rivals NASA Barbie.  I know I would really enjoy a Lisbeth Salander Do-It-Yourself Piercing and Tattoo Kit.

Yeah.

Sincerely,

Any Woman with Half A Brain