One thing I've noticed is that adults are not good at following directions, particularly the directions they've been given since childhood. They talk when the instructor is talking, think the rules apply to everyone but them, and don't wait for the answers to the questions they're asking. They act out for attention, cluck their tongues and roll their eyes, and generally behave like bratty 8-year-olds. In college courses, dance classes, and at work in customer service I consistently come in contact with adults who should know better. A further irony is that elementary school teachers seem to be the worst perpetrators. Maybe they only seem like the most frequent offenders because it's twice as irritating when they are, but it does happen far more often than it should.
I think it's because they're so used to being in charge - being dictators of their tiny kingdoms of people who are yet physically, emotionally, and mentally undeveloped - that they're completely unwilling to give up that "power," even to help themselves out. Rather than learning from their own lessons about life and decency, they learn to be above the law. No one can talk while they're talking, therefore whenever they decide to talk is socially acceptable. I bet at first it's just within their own classrooms, but soon enough it leaks into everyday life, until one day they're in a pottery class at the YMCA or a movie theater and they're busily talking out of turn as if they owned the joint. Students are not allowed to gossip, chatter, roll their eyes, raise their voices, or sass back, which is as it should be, but none of those rules apply to teachers. They frequently accuse kids of being "disrespectful," (and rightly so, I'm sure), but think back with me, how many times in school did this happen: Your teacher got onto the class for being too noisy (read: disrespectful). Then, while heads were dutifully bent over papers and the only sound was pencil lead on notebooks and the occasional textbook page flap, another teacher-friend wanders into the room and they proceed to cartoon-whisper with their mouths behind a folder, their eyes locked and loaded on a specific kid. "Habidda habbida blah blah Parent Called habbida habbida Principal blah blah whisper blah Conference habbida habbida NO! Mmhm, I mean whisper whisper habbida habbida..." How respectful is that, I ask you? It happened at least once a week for several years in a row for me. It happened frequently enough that I remember in vivid detail, and I was
rarely the poor kid in question.
Don't get me wrong, I like teachers. I have been a student to many great teachers, and I have some friends in that profession who are good, smart, reasonable people. I respect them for what they've done for me, personally, and for what they do in general for society. Their job is as thankless as they come, having to deal with parents, school board politics, and kids with no home training; being told, "Here, you raise him," and "How DARE you discipline my child" all in one breath; not getting paid enough. Still, I've noticed that, generally, 2 kinds of people become teachers (particularly elementary school teachers): Those who want to change the world by imparting knowledge to the beautiful minds of the young, and sadistically megalomaniacal tyrants. I've had both.
Today I was on a phone call with a lady who told me she was a teacher. She wasn't able to log into her account because her password wasn't working, so I was walking her through resetting it online. I told her to click on the link that says, "Forgot password," which she did. This takes people to an uncluttered screen with very simple instructions. It says, "Request Account Password," at the top, and under that:
Account ID Number: ____________ < blank space for requested information
E-Mail: ____________ < blank space for requested information
<< Two CAPTCHA nonsense words to prove you're a real live human >>
Enter the words above: ____________ < blank space for requested information
<< Submit Button >>
Now, I'm the first to admit that sometimes our web sites aren't as user-friendly as the code writers think they are, especially for those who don't work with computers every day. However, I don't think this is one of those times. This teacher disagreed.
"Do I put in my ID and then hit Submit, then put in my email, etc.?... No?... Well, maybe it's the teacher in me, but the instructions should be more clear. They should all be listed at the top of the page."
I got flashbacks to my 3rd, 4th, and 5th grade teachers saying over and over again, "Read ALL of the instructions on the worksheet before you begin!" It may have made me smile if she didn't use such a condescending tone of voice, and if this was a long questionnaire I'd probably agree with her, but there are 3 instructions. Three. Common sense dictates that she should answer those 3 questions and then hit "Submit." If she had read all 3 of the instructions before beginning she would've figured that out. She declared that we should put a statement at the top along the lines of, "Please fill in the requested information and then hit Submit." Maybe it's the customer service agent in me, but I can tell you from experience that if we were to put up a statement like that, people would skip right over it and still call in to ask us what to do. Because they didn't listen to their elementary school teachers. Still, I don't think I'd have been ANNOYED by her silly suggestion if it wasn't for her haughty air, or if she hadn't then continued to willfully disregard my directions.
Once people fill out those 3 questions an email is sent with a brand new password, which is why we ask for the email address in the first place. I told her to go to her email account, find the new password, and enter it on the login screen. She said, "I want to use my old password. I'm going to try that one first." Remember, she called in because her old password wasn't giving her access to her account. I said, "Well, we just reset it, so the old password isn't going to work." She repeated that she liked her old password and wanted to try it, so I said, "Ok, go ahead and try it." Now, you're probably reading this conversation as if she said her part and then I said my part and so on. That is incorrect. She'd say her part, I'd start to reply, and she'd refuse to wait for my answer like the fabled interrupting cow. She then asked me if she should enter her old password where it says, "password," and I said, "No, it won't work, you need to use the new one," (while thinking, "Lady, why are you asking me this when a) I've already told you and b) you're just going to do what you want to do anyway?"). She said again that she didn't want to do that and she tried her old password. Would you believe it didn't work? After that she went to her email account, found her new password, and logged in. I should've probably just told her to do that in the first place.
I had this other lady today who didn't know how to wait for the answer to her question, either. Her problem was that she didn't know enough about the company to even ask a question that made sense. It was along the lines of, "Did you
walk to school or
carry your lunch?" When that happens, I HAVE to answer in complete sentences. I know this is so frustrating when all you want is a yes or a no (scratch that, when all you want to is a, "Yes, of course, whatever you want, madam,"), but trust me, it's necessary. I wouldn't do it if it wasn't. She wouldn't let me finish clarifying / answering her question before asking it again in an equally nonsensical manner. I don't know if she was a teacher, but she was old enough to know better. You'd be surprised at how often this happens.
Moral: Everyone needs to go back to kindergarten to learn how to take turns, follow directions, and be nice. Everyone. Especially teachers. Especially kindergarten teachers.
