"Oooops." The bitter end.

Finally, the day arrived: Last class! I practically sproinged out of bed and sprinted to class. I was very eager to shake the dust of this section off my heels and walk away.

I collected all of the various forms I needed and distributed course evals, and then departed to give them some privacy to fill the forms out. (Apparently, if the prof is in the room, students might feel too intimidated to give accurate feedback. What the fuck ever.) I met up with the other section prof in the hall; she shared a sour and commiserating look before we returned to our rooms.

I gave the traditional end-of-semester speech, turned them loose and grabbed the sealed envelope of evals -- which seemed to weigh fifty pounds. Off I went to give them to my department head. The other prof and I met up in the hall and walked, silently, together. We arrived at her office at the same time, and we handed over our evals like a jury foreman handing over the results in a capitol murder case. we sighed in unison.

She took them, thanked us and then gave us a long, measuring look -- and then tossed them, unopened, into the trash.

"Have a good summer, ladies. New texts will be in the mail late next week." Then she turned back to her computer.

We left, a little more optimistic. "How many challenges do you think we are going to get?" she asked.

"Probably a shit-tonne. Opportunistic little fuckers will see what they can get, and parents are pissed. I suspect we are going to be filling out paperwork for months on this one."

"Fuck." "Indeed."

Over the course of the following two weeks, 17 out of 19 challenged grades in my section; 20 out of 20 in hers. We did spend about six weeks photocopying, e-mailing, justifying and printing out reams of documentation. I spent more time on campus providing paper trail than I do during a normal semester.

In the end, admin actually stood behind both of us, and every single grade was upheld.  So, win for us...I guess.

Though both of us agree that we're never volunteering for shit again. The whole incident left a very bitter taste in our mouths, towards the canned prof and frankly, towards students. I hope that a light summer schedule will help me get my optimistic mojo back, and I won't start in the fall by giving every single frosh that crosses  my path the evil eye.

I will serve on curriculum committee and judicial affairs before I pick up an orphaned class again. Fuck that shit right in the ear.