And I wanted to say
But….but….but….
But Theory, But Credentials, But Research,
But I’m older now, and I should have studies to reference, people to cite
Proper Professional Rebuttals;
I’m a big girl.
I should have my own back.

But in the moment, it was one of those things,
one of those thinking-of-a-come-back-after-the-person-has-left-the-room things
one of those remembering-a-joke-after-the-moment-has-passed things.
It was a deer-in-headlights thing, a moment of knowing that I had a clear cold calculated head to analyze exactly what was going on,
that I could step outside of the meeting in an out-of-the-academy experience
and say with the kind of authority that you don’t have to ask for,
the kind of respect that you don’t have to earn again and again and again:

“Professor,
Good Sir,
The way you’ve been teaching this class is garbage.
I mean, you’re teaching Marx, Weber, Foucault with multiple choice quizzes:
“Mode of production means A, B, C, or D”?
Really?
It’s embarrassing.

And I know you’ve thought all along:
A chick? Teaching university-level political and social theory? Heavens. Where the mens at.
I got that loud and clear, thank you, I’m over it, I’ve dealt with worse.

But Professor,
Good Sir,
Don’t fuck with my students.
Don’t tell me the top 10% will be fine and the bottom 10% I can ignore because they’re a lost cause.
Don’t tell me they get dumber every year– you have no idea how much I’ve learned from them so far.
Don’t tell me you need quizzes to blackmail them into reading–I’ve seen people go inside the text, rip it up, and come out owning it on the other side.
Don’t tell me essays are a waste of time and they would all just plagiarize–you have no idea who these people are, what they’re about, and what they are capable of.
Don’t tell me I don’t know what I’m talking about when I have
1) common sense,
2) a research library of references on this type of superficial standardized quizzing as a complete disincentive to any kind of meaningful learning,
3) numbered lists and detailed arguments and, and, and,

And don’t do what you just went and did, cut me off at the knees before I can say any of this
before I can gather my professional chops and say
“But Theory, But Credentials, But Research!”,
and pat me condescendingly on the shoulder, chuckle, turn away with a:
“You’ll make a great grade school teacher some day.”

Leaving me to swallow my tongue.