damn doe eyed students

Students are driving me crazy. It’s the last day of the waitlist and they won’t stop emailing me to let them in. I was proud of myself on Wednesday because I told them the class was full, there weren’t any people enrolled who weren’t showing up, I wasn’t going to give PTA numbers. I already had 50 students–I didn’t need the extra work and I had a union, dammit! Then last night, after the professor’s lecture, the two people first on the list looked at me with their big, doe eyes, asked again and I caved. They love literature! They’re first on the list! Only one per class, I told them, hating myself for being so weak. Then this morning I got a sob story from the second guy on the list: he’s bought the books! he needs the class for his major! there are no other classes that he can take that will satisfy the requirement, and any that could are already full! he’s a senior and needs to graduate this quarter! he’ll go below 12 units and lose his financial aid! Isn’t second good enough? To which I say, no! I hate sob stories, especially ones that seem so patently untrue and hyperbolic. I pointed out that in our own department there are classes that still have space and fulfill the same requirements. Nobody needs a bullshit fairytale class to graduate. Please. It doesn’t even fill a requirement for the major in our department. So I emailed him that (only more professional-like, of course), and it bounced back to me because his inbox is full. Dammit–even if it is his fault. Then I realized that he was the same student that I had to give a “enrolled, no work submitted” last quarter for my class because he never came and never bothered to drop the class. Whatever. But I hate being the bitch. I feel guilty.