Education As Customer Service

So I've received my first complaint of the new term. Evidently now announcing deadlines in class and on the assignment and actually enforcing them is seen as unfair.

What was most amusing about the complaint, though, was the student's not-so-implied threat that if I was going to continue to have deadlines and, you know, actually enforce them, that my course might not be the ideal course for them. And I quote:

if this semester is going to be like this i dont
think i can take this class. i have lacrosse 90 percent of my time this
semester and i only have the time to do things like homework when they
fit into this schedule i have decided for myself

When I worked in banking this was my favorite threat from customers: if you're going to charge me for bouncing my check, I'm going to take my money and run. And just like most of those banking customers, when I'd offer to mail them the check for their remaining funds, this student quickly rethought the decision.

Here's the thing about this customer service metaphor that I see missed - usually by students, sometimes by faculty (think about your last Senate meeting), and all too often by staff and administrators: it doesn't mean there shouldn't be standards. And it doesn't mean that students or their parents get to set those standards.

While My Tea Gently Steeps

I knew it was going to be a rough day when, even after coming in from running the pup this morning and taking a long, hot shower, my voice couldn't come above my "I'm very angry but must not give any indication by raising my voice" level. How could anyone expect me to function over the course of the day when I couldn't even sing along to "Fat Bottom Girls" in the car on the way to campus?

My throat seems to be the place that all sickness starts with me. Usually, once a term around the time the weather changes for good, it acts up. But today was beyond the usual level. What's strange about it is that usually getting sick makes me feel like I'm moving slow, but everything I've done today and everywhere I've been has felt like I'm trying to move at warp speed in a crowded area populated by clones of my arthritic grandfather. Maybe that's just the nature of the area I live in. Scrawled on the back of a postcard that never got sent, I found this failed haiku a few nights ago that seems to some up some of my experiences while out and about:

sour faced grandmothers
shrunken, radiate in slow
nods, their disapproval

That's how the day feels (okay, really, that's how the last few years have felt).

And so I wasn't surprised when I came home to find I was going to have to, yet again, go at Verizon. But to do it without a voice? Even my mug of hot tea wasn't enough to cut through all of it. Verizon's made an enemy of me. Having signed up for a bundling package with them, they've manged to mess up and demand overpayment on my bill each of the first three months I've been with them. Worse, the company's customer service sets new lows every time I'm forced to call them. And I'm forced to call them almost weekly now, trying to get the credit for the over-payments applied properly. It's funny because customer service is one of the places I'm least "Curmudgeon," having worked for years in similar industries and so, recognizing that it usually isn't a person at the other end of the line who deserves the ire and that patience usually wins the day. But this is honestly trying me, and I'm ready to swear off ever working with Verizon. And I'd certainly recommend to anyone else considering them to never work with them.

The day wasn't all bad, of course. I found some new positions to apply for, which is pretty exciting. And most of my students are set for the next term. I've dealt with the study abroad folks and the students who are failing out of my graduation-gateway course.

The term is winding down and winter has arrived. There are trips on the horizon - to see friends at Thanksgiving and family at Christmas. Those are the things I'm trying to focus on. Even if I can't belt out Queen first thing in the morning.