Paste Makes Waste.

Looking back on the experience, are there any particularly positive or negative aspects of your course you would like to highlight?
Please ensure that your comments do not identify you individually.

Positive aspects:

Thank goodness, of the 18 out of 19 modules enrolled and completed, there were perhaps only 7 lecturers - in particular, John Curran, Riette Van Wynen and Chris Essien - who were effective in providing quality courses and demonstrating dignity and intelligence in their roles of educators, or at least education facilitators.

The final positive aspect is now I am nearly done at London Metropolitan, I shall never have to set foot in the place again nor find myself captive to their incompetence or subject to their maladministration.

Negative aspects:

Of the rest, some of the other 12 lecturers were variously rude, offensively insulting and abusive, sexist and sexually harassing, inconsistent in their teaching and delivery of content, and even descending to childish rants and unfounded accusations. One lecturer even referred to Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth II as "that old lady" during a Business Law I module.

Don't even get me started on the general university, course and student administration. It would be more appropriately described as maladministration at best, and a total shambles at worst. This student had to suffer incorrect and inefficient allocation of seminar/lecture facilities, resources and services which was often provided by staff whose general attitudes ranged from indifference to incompetence.

As a part-time, evening student, the experience could have been much worse as mine is not the most severe account related. Some of my colleagues are suffering still and set to endure even more. They have my sympathies.

Let's hope that's the case - ain't got that sheepskin quite yet.

Then, therapy.

Publish and be damned!

And I say, let them call me on anything I have claimed for I am prepared to provide evidence.

The survey asked for an assessment of the whole experience and, even at this nearing-completion stage, I can also say that I am still hopping mad.

To assess students’ Short Stories, use the Writing Rubric on page XX of the Teacher’s Edition

April 24-25

THE MACHINE: A 1941 Ford 1/2 ton pickup. It was a
shiny black beauty when dad picked it off a used car
lot in Long Beach, CA in 1950, or thereabouts. I
remember riding home in it with Dad and Ed, standing
on the seat between them. I found a .22 bullet to go
with my "collection" in the little dash-mounted
organizer, so I felt this was a good omen.
But by 1960, it was faded black, with yellow creme
colored wooden sideboards and a semi-peeled-off RCA
Victor decal on the driver's door. The hood latch was
broken, as it invariable was on all 40 and 41 fords.
The hood springs were gone, so the hood was propped up
with a short piece of broomstick that stored handily
between the grill and the radiator. With no functioning
hood latch, the safety catch was all that held it from
flying up. The rubber grommets were long gone, so the
hood rattled and banged with every bump. Driving down
a washboard gravel road (of which there were many in
the Delta area) was an adventure. Not only did the
truck sound like it was being fed into a hammermill,
but with the worn shocks, it tended to dribble itself
sideways right off the road.

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