So Much About So Little; So Little About So Much

This is a story about two fathers that I observed and had the opportunity to meet during the time that I had their daughters in my geography class.

At the end of a term I had passed out a slip of paper with each students’ scores on it and allowed them to figure out their grades. Most of the students wanted to figure out what they were going to receive for the term. I had already gone through and figured out all of the grades, but it was a good check for the students to also figure out their own grades. Once in a while they came up with a different grade than I had, so we would then go over them together to make sure the grade was correct or change it to make sure it was correct.

There was one particular student that didn’t like the grade she had earned. She had come up with the same grade from her scores that I had, but it wasn’t the grade that she wanted. The grade was an A- not an A. The next day her father came to school early and wanted to see me. This was all fine, I supposed he wanted to discuss how his daughter had done. I was a little taken back when he indicated that his daughter had set her sights to have all A’s during her high school years, and that I needed to change her grade to an A. I told him that it would not be fair to her or to the rest of the class if I were to do that. He then insisted again that the grade be changed.

I said that I would not change the grade, but if he chose, he could. I passed him the grade book and the white out. I was still surprised when he whited out the “– “ in the book leaving an “A.” He then wanted to know if I was going to give her that grade. I told him that the grade would appear on her report card, but that I had not given it to her, he had.

When he stood up and was ready to leave, I asked him if he remembered me from a few years ago. He said he didn’t remember ever seeing me. I reminded him that I had come to his office with a note from an instructor saying it was alright for me to take the final one week early. He told me that I must keep to the schedule, that it wouldn’t be fair for me to test early and then leave campus for home. It was my last test that I needed to stay for another week and lose out on the pay at the store where I would be working. He was one of the deans of students at BYU and could have let me take the test early, but he refused. The only thing he wanted to know after my story, was if his daughter would still be getting the A. I said yes, that it was in the grade book. He then said thanks and left.

Library of Congress, Geography and Map Division

The second student who had gotten a C+ came to class and didn’t complain, but I could see that she was upset, and I asked her to stay after class. I asked her how she was, and she said she was fine, that she had earned the C+ and that was what she deserved. She told me that her father, a BYU professor, was going to Peru to an archaeological site and was going to take her, but had decided that she should stay and work on her grades.

I called the father and told him that his daughter was taking a class dealing with geography and that we were going to be studying South America. I told him that I had never been to South America, and I could tell her what I had read, or she could actually go there with him and see Peru. He asked if I were sure that it would be ok. I told him that if she went, she would need to report to the class when she got back, and her grade for the term would be an A. I thought that it was more important for her to see a country in South America than for me to tell her about something that I didn’t really know.

I know which of these men that I would want teaching my children. The other thought that I had was that if I had gotten an A- in high school, my parents would have killed the fatted calf and had a mighty feast and even though it was many years since I had been in high school, the party might still be going on.