Sitting in another faculty meeting (which is always about as fun as a COVID-19 test), I heard the old refrain from another faculty member about the current condition of our students being the worst that could possibly be out there. Somehow, our school recruited from the bottom of the barrel to fill our classroom seats as if our admissions standards were a moderately warm body temperature. I am involved in many committees and hear this sentiment at least once a month. I know some schools have open registration, but is the current crop of students all that bad?

If I were to ask the faculty on my campus, I would wager at least half of them have gripes about the student body. I don’t mean complaints about individuals who do not contribute in class or need all the prompting in the world to put in the work just to earn a D in Basic Computers. Yes, I am not a fan of Darren sitting in the back of the classroom laughing at the latest Skibidi Toilet video instead of paying attention to my terrible stand-up comedy routine. It does bother me that my jokes lose out to a talking head in a commode. However, Darren will filter out of the system soon enough because he hasn’t turned in any assignments and is on the bullet train to Failsville.

I am talking about the overgeneralizations made about the entire student body. I am sure you have heard them. Let me remind you of the hits: “All they do is play on their phones.” “They never read the syllabus.” “They don’t do the work.” “They don’t read anything.” “They don’t come to class.” Let’s not forget the hot new single sweeping the nation, “Everything they submit is AI-generated.”

Good heavens, with a list of complaints like this, somebody might think these professors earned a tenure-track job at Rikers (I hope they pack a shiv). What could possibly be happening in these classrooms that makes professors feel like this? I’ve had moments where the students were a little out of control, but I don’t recall utter chaos overcoming the room. To better understand these sentiments, I think it would be best to unpack each statement and see if we can determine the root of the problem and maybe come up with solutions using our critical thinking caps.

“All they do is play on their phones.”

Until recently, the most prevalent problem facing teaching faculty was the use of phones in class. The smart brick, as I call it, has some great advantages. They help us stay connected with people, take pictures, and even run an entire company. Yes, they are a distraction. However, the bigger problem encroaching on classrooms is that the phone is the only piece of technology some students know how to operate, and poorly at that.

It is hard to compete against the latest memes and lewd pictures circulating on social media. Do I wish that students would look at that stuff someplace else? Hell, yes, I do, but because of attendance policies, they decide that viewing that stuff in the classroom rather than their dorm room is a nice change of scenery. I’m old, so the only relatable thing I can think of was when Mrs. Petras told us we couldn’t use calculators because we wouldn’t be walking around with one in our pocket when we were older. Not only do I walk around with a calculator all day, but I also have the expanse of all the world’s knowledge sitting in my pocket.

How do we compete with this marvel of modern technology? Some people ban them from their classrooms, which has limited success. Plus, there is the whole accessibility issue. This is what I do, and it may work for you. I incorporated the “smoke break” into my classes. Since all my classes are 80 minutes, I incorporate a 5-minute break where my students can look at their phones, converse, or whatever they want. Their commitment to me is that they cannot have their phones out during the rest of class. If they manage a good day, then I reward the class with a bonus point. If I catch them, I don’t say anything and erase a bonus point after class. I recommend to them to get a notebook and scribble during class if they don’t want to listen because it gives me the illusion that they are taking notes. So far, it has worked wonders in class. A lot of students are more engaged.

“They never read the syllabus.”

This is a classic, but it should be taken behind the woodshed to be put down. Realistically, nobody reads the syllabus—not even the professor who wrote it—because they don’t update anything other than office hours and dates. Besides, most professors remind their students of deadlines. The last time the syllabus was updated, Kony 2012 was a major movement. The best thing to do with these things is to put random references and phony rules in them and then use them as questions in an exam.

I know the argument is that documentation must explain the course’s expectations. This is important, and we cannot forsake the sacred text of a syllabus. If you want to get pedantic, turn it into a quiz. Nobody can stop you. Your students will hate you for it, but they won’t forget your standards.

“They don’t do the work” // “They don’t read anything.” // “They don’t come to class.”

These three are all variations of the same issue. The argument about lazy students existed long before we arrived and will persist long after we are dust. It is not entirely true that students don’t read. They read differently now than previous generations. From my understanding, it might as well be a novel if the assignment is longer than a paragraph. I have foregone reading in my courses, except in trying to lure out their curiosity. I entice them through lurid examples that entice them to look more into it. I don’t care if they Google it, at least they are showing interest.

Not coming to class or doing assignments don’t even bother me anymore. I don’t take student disinterest as a personal attack. I feel that is a major component of the animosity towards students nowadays. So, I don’t take anything personal anymore.  If there is no investment by the student, why should I even sweat over their reactions to a bad grade? Some students get riled up if they are dissatisfied with the grade they earned. If a student has the energy to threaten to take a complaint up the chain, they are welcome to do so. I wish they put about ten percent of that energy into the class because they would have passed.

I know the major counterargument to this strategy is concerns about evaluations. If there is a fear that one student review will sink your career, it is time to reevaluate things. The counter-counterargument to this is that the students are privileged jerks who are looking for a reason to gripe. I will counter-counter-counterargue that somebody will have to tell them no in their lifetime, and I would be more than honored to be the first. It is a huge disservice to students that we do not tell them some life facts. Welcome to Flunkburgh, Kid. Population, you.

“Everything they submit is AI generated.”

This is the newest sensation sweeping the nation. Professors believe that everything that looks remotely well-written is academically dishonest. If they aren’t convinced that it is, they turn to AI detectors who excel at giving false positives to people who take the results as gospel. The irony is that people are using AI to detect AI. The beauty is that people get indignant when others use the same means to work on assignments.

I have no problem with generative AI. I use it to help fix my grammar and clean up my ramblings. In fact, I am using it to edit this post. If you suspect that a student is using AI to do something nefarious, just have a visit and ask some simple questions. If they can’t answer them, then there is a problem.

If the AI thing still bothers you, then revert back to the old school ways. Go back to the blue books. Sure, their handwriting is atrocious, but at least you know it is theirs. Unless, AI managed to generate hands and write for them on paper pulp, it will truly test the knowledge of the student.

All of this malarkey boils down to what happens in the classroom when we enter it. Are we in control? Do we care about the material we lecture about? Are we even invested in what we are doing? If not, maybe the problem isn’t the kids—it’s us. I am not saying that professors need to learn theatrics or improv, but they must generate interest somehow. That doesn’t mean we have to bring our best material everyday, but we need to do better than PowerPoint karaoke. That might explain why some students don’t bother showing up because everything they need is on slides you provided. As long as they pass the exams, why bother attending. Be ready for the exams and then take a brain dump afterwards.

This article is not pointing blame at one party or the other, but I do believe that these struggles are a two way street. While we have expectations for our students, it might not hurt to readjust ourselves to meet student