Spring has finally sprung. That means Opening Day, the Masters, the start of terrible movie season, an onslaught of allergies, and various forms of household cleaning. It also means the worst day of the year has arrived. That’s right, today is tax day—the day that reminds many of us that there is a portion of every day, and a large portion of every year, in which we work for free. It’s strange to think about when it’s put like that, isn’t it? No one would ever accept a job in which the boss said at the interview, “By the way, you will be working an eight-hour work day, but I’m only going to pay you for six. Cool with you?” Or, “Everything will be normal from January through September, but for the last three months of the year, I’m going to need you to work for free. Mmmkay?” When we see that little bit deducted from our paycheck, we don’t always think much of it. But if we looked at it all at once for what it really is--unpaid labor (weird, there used to be a term for that...what was it?)--we may have a different feeling about it. That money is going somewhere, after all.
I often find that young people understand this more than many adults do. These simple thought experiments would likely prove it:
--Tell your college students that everyone gets to use the computers in the lab, but only half of the student body will be charged for their maintenance and wi-fi service.
--Tell your students they have to read your course syllabus, which is 70,000 pages, and if they don't follow every specific rule in the document, they will automatically be failed and expelled.
--Tell your class that in an effort to promote equality, grades from top students will be confiscated and distributed among those at the bottom of the class. Everyone will still pass the class with a C, so there shouldn’t be any problem. If any A students resist, just ask them why they are so greedy and oppressive toward the other students.
--Tell your class of 24 students that two of them will be responsible for doing the homework load equivalent of twelve other students. And the other ten won’t have to turn in hardly anything the rest of the semester.
--Tell your students to reach into the wallets and purses of other students sitting next to them to confiscate cash so they can pay their tuition. If the unsuspecting student gets upset, tell the appropriator to use fancy terms like “financial aid” and “Pell grant” to make it sound official.
Again, these are just thought experiments, not a promotion of actual class discourse. So you’ll just have to play the hypothetical game with me. I promise that if you were to bring up any of these scenarios to today’s young people, they would undoubtedly call you out on your egregious sense of unfairness. They would, despite not being able to tell the difference between a comma and a coma, astutely decry how in each of these examples the students who are smartest, most disciplined, and hardest working inevitably get the shaft. “Why would anyone ever try to improve?” they would ask. They would cleverly surmise that in such a zany environment, the wisest choice is to remain at the bottom. After all, that’s where all the benefits are. Free resources, free grades, free funding. Ultimately, students would inevitably reconcile that being a failure is the most efficient way to succeed. Being at the top earns you the reward of having it taken away from you. “But it’s for the good of everyone,” you could counter. “Don’t you want everyone to have a chance?” Some could turn sheepish at the thought of restricting opportunities for others. But the brightest would likely retort, “If someone needs help, I will volunteer to help them. But don’t punish me for doing my best.”
We as teachers often say that today’s youth aren’t mature enough or aren’t insightful enough or aren’t curious enough to learn about the complicated ways of the world. But they know a scam when they see one. I wonder why so many seem to forget their instincts for fairness when they leave school and enter the working world.
Happy tax day, America. I’ve worked hard this year—enjoy spending my money.
I often find that young people understand this more than many adults do. These simple thought experiments would likely prove it:
--Tell your college students that everyone gets to use the computers in the lab, but only half of the student body will be charged for their maintenance and wi-fi service.
--Tell your students they have to read your course syllabus, which is 70,000 pages, and if they don't follow every specific rule in the document, they will automatically be failed and expelled.
--Tell your class that in an effort to promote equality, grades from top students will be confiscated and distributed among those at the bottom of the class. Everyone will still pass the class with a C, so there shouldn’t be any problem. If any A students resist, just ask them why they are so greedy and oppressive toward the other students.
--Tell your class of 24 students that two of them will be responsible for doing the homework load equivalent of twelve other students. And the other ten won’t have to turn in hardly anything the rest of the semester.
--Tell your students to reach into the wallets and purses of other students sitting next to them to confiscate cash so they can pay their tuition. If the unsuspecting student gets upset, tell the appropriator to use fancy terms like “financial aid” and “Pell grant” to make it sound official.
Again, these are just thought experiments, not a promotion of actual class discourse. So you’ll just have to play the hypothetical game with me. I promise that if you were to bring up any of these scenarios to today’s young people, they would undoubtedly call you out on your egregious sense of unfairness. They would, despite not being able to tell the difference between a comma and a coma, astutely decry how in each of these examples the students who are smartest, most disciplined, and hardest working inevitably get the shaft. “Why would anyone ever try to improve?” they would ask. They would cleverly surmise that in such a zany environment, the wisest choice is to remain at the bottom. After all, that’s where all the benefits are. Free resources, free grades, free funding. Ultimately, students would inevitably reconcile that being a failure is the most efficient way to succeed. Being at the top earns you the reward of having it taken away from you. “But it’s for the good of everyone,” you could counter. “Don’t you want everyone to have a chance?” Some could turn sheepish at the thought of restricting opportunities for others. But the brightest would likely retort, “If someone needs help, I will volunteer to help them. But don’t punish me for doing my best.”
We as teachers often say that today’s youth aren’t mature enough or aren’t insightful enough or aren’t curious enough to learn about the complicated ways of the world. But they know a scam when they see one. I wonder why so many seem to forget their instincts for fairness when they leave school and enter the working world.
Happy tax day, America. I’ve worked hard this year—enjoy spending my money.