Behold, the Power of a Red Pen

I have no weapons training. I've completed neither hunters' safety nor gun safety classes, and I've only held a gun a half-dozen times. The closest I've come to using weaponry is fishing. So how was I given the right to wield a blood-red pen? Slashing my way through an incorrect answer never feels right. There is a fine line between mercy and unhealthy coddling, and I'm having a difficult time defining that line.

vs.

I've heard rumors – all too true, I'm afraid – that 4 of 18 MAA students passed the junior math class last year. 22% passed. Not 22% with an A or B, but 4 who had anything above an F. Unacceptable! I thought.

I've spent the last two days grading lab safety questionnaires; not a difficult assignment by any means. I've seen more misspellings of "goggles" than I'd ever imagined: gugoles, gogles, and googles ("googles" shows up more frequently than "goggles"!). And now a quiz grading dilemma has arisen: a practical lab quiz waiting for an adjustment to the points possible since time ran out, but raw scores ranging from 42% to 100%. I also found three students with the study sheet for the quiz in their hand as we were taking the practical exam. I simply took the sheets away when I could have (and perhaps should have) given them a zero on the assignment. Where does mercy overstep its bounds?

I must continually remind myself that thorough knowledge is more important than a high GPA. I can't force students to learn that which they do not want to know. I can only show them what I know with as much excitement as I can muster. Show them what I know and pray.