“It loses its oomph when the student skips AND the prof gives an A and publishes the paper.”
I said the professor gave me the A, I think. She may have marked the ‘A’ grade, and then lowered it one letter grade because she could. The publishing of the paper was not a unilateral decision on the professor’s part, it was a decision reached in committee, and she supported my paper reluctantly during the deliberation phase, but then fully when the panel was mostly in consensus.
How do I know this? She told me. She said she supported the final decision to publish only because she had no doubt I had written this particular paper - as it contained the exact same formatting error as the others. To her that was my signature mark. (The guys in the computer lab would stay late just to stop me from having a melt down when I was trying to print.)
Her seeing the formatting error, consistent with that which she had seen in my work before in papers submitted to her , should have done no more to relieve her of her doubts that some ghost writer was doing my work. I suppose she figured I would be paying someone mightily to do all of my work for me, so she consented to the publishing on the strength of the paper, and against her inclination to disbelieve it was my work.
But the initial tone of her congratulatory call to me would never have yielded that information had she not “magnanimously” decided to share it.
Perhaps some people here feel that there is no insult or injury if “it all works out in the end.” That is not the way that the human psyche works.
“You know, it strikes me that in light of the racism that black kids DO face, you’d think that a thoughtful one would want to engage in behaviors that dispel a stereotype, not further it.”
What would be the stereotype that is furthered here, Pizza? And how, pray tell, does a young person carry on her back the mission to prove to others that they can have positive feelings about Blacks, or youth?
Additionally, as she started our first point of contact with her “remedial” comment, you seem to have missed the point that she had decided I was unfit to be there even before I showed her the comments she’d written on my paper. She looked at me and thought, “Oh, I know what this is about. So tired of these kids coming here unprepared to do the work.” She struck pre-emptively, out of a gut place. That stank.