Of all the students who have passed through my life over the past 15 years, I recall one in particular. She and her family had fled their native city of Sarajevo during the Bosnian War.
When I first met her she had been in the states for about six months and her accent was still quite pronounced, causing her no end of embarrassment. What I recall even more vividly, however, is that she proved to be one of the best students I have ever known.
I would love to take credit for the beautifully formed sentences that filled her writing assignments, but I can’t. She was intent on learning to write in English as well as she possibly could, because for her — as well as for her parents and younger brother — this was an absolute necessity.
The sooner she attained proficiency in English, the better chance she had of finding a good job. If all my students were as dedicated as this young woman from Sarajevo was, my job would be quite easy. But many of my students are anything but dedicated. Instead, they’re indifferent.
Indifferent students can be male or female, American or foreign born, recent high school graduates, or adults returning to school to make themselves more appealing in a tough job market. They may be attending classes on a part- or full-time basis. As for their marital status, a single student recently graduated from high school is no more likely to be indifferent than a mature adult with children.
Nor does their employment status always seem to have much to do with their commitment to an education. What you may find surprising is that these students are usually as ethical, polite and well-meaning as any other. In fact, I have genuinely liked some of them.
Another characteristic these students share is apathy about attendance and class participation. Although they may come to class on a fairly regular basis, they often arrive late and sometimes leave early.
When they are in class, they frequently appear to be somewhere else. If they are women, it is not unusual to find them thoughtfully considering the state of their most recent manicure. If they are men, they’re often eyeing the aforementioned women. And whether male or female, they typically can’t resist the allure of their cellphones.
The commitment these students bring to their school work suggests that they consider it of only marginal importance. Seldom does the quality of their work rise above the average. They seem content to aim low and trust that they will always hit the mark.
In other words, they are much more likely to get something over and done with than they are to get it done right. Their most common excuse? They are taking a full load and ran out of time. The next most common excuse? They’ll never have to write essays in the real world. But in some secret recess of their being, they also may resent the fact that the real world thinks they need an education in the first place.
Many of my former students might recognize themselves were they to read this column. Perhaps some of you have recognized yourself. If you have, and if you are still a student, this might be a good time to decide just what kind of student you intend to be from here on out. Bear in mind that no one can force you to replace your indifference with dedication.
No one can make you achieve what you have no desire to achieve. And no one can convince you of the value of an education if you can’t convince yourself. Those decisions are yours to make.
But if this helps, and it just might, give some thought now and then to the young woman from Sarajevo who dedicated herself to attaining proficiency in English because for her and her family it came down to one very simple concept: survival.
Someone just like her may be sitting next to you in class, or competing with you for admission to the college of your choice.
Will you be up to the challenge?
Rick Diguette is a writer and teaches English at a local college.
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