Partly Cloudy, 64°
Look, I definitely understand where you’re coming from, and I empathize with your position. But if I save you right now from this deadly drop, it wouldn’t be fair for the rest of the section. Let’s look at this situation from my perspective, okay? I’m up here, on top of this cliff, and I see one of my students dangling precariously over a steep canyon, slowly losing their grip on a tree root jutting from the cliff face. Of course I want to help you, and let’s say that I do. But then what happens? Now I’ve set a precedent. Now every student in the class is going to say, ‘Hey professor, you saved that other student from the cliff, can you save me too?’ And because I did it for you, I’d have to do it for everyone. I’m basically doing all of your work for you. That’s not in the spirit of the class. That’s not how I teach, and more importantly, that’s not how you learn.
Now I know this might sound harsh, but this isn’t high school anymore; you can’t expect to have your hand be held throughout the whole process. If you were on this cliff and about to fall earlier in the semester, then maybe I could’ve helped you. But this is far too late into the year for you to be asking for help with this kind of problem. I’m not trying to pick on you in particular; the department has a strict no exceptions policy when it comes to saving any student from certain death without a Dean’s note.
What’s that? Oh, this coil of rope by my feet? I’m sorry, but that’s only for students with accommodations. I can’t give this to you, but if you go to the Dean’s office and get an accommodation in your file, I’m more than happy to toss down this rope the next time you’re dangling off a cliff. Right now, all I can give you is some advice: Prepare a little better, and next time you won’t even need to ask me for my help!
