TA Terrors

Avery Walker
Kappa Kappa Gamma

When I started my history class last semester, I had no idea what I was in for. As a conscientious student with a love for the Liberal Arts, history has never been my favorite subject, but I’ve always enjoyed it.  The professor was adorably nerdy, knowledgeable; the classroom was paneled with wood. As I sat in my chair on the first day, I had a good feeling about the class. However, after going online to check my first test grade on Blackboard, I was shocked to see that I received a terrible grade on my first paper.

I went to see my T.A. (we’ll just call him “Harry”) about it, but he didn’t seem to have an answer for my low score. When I asked specific questions, he had trouble qualifying whether I needed to be more detailed, more broad, add more facts, or whether it was my writing style. I had made a perfect score on ACT writing - I was designed for this! I had also taken the first history class at UT and received an A without much effort at all. During our discussion, I asked where he had gotten his undergrad- a very small school in Illinois that I had never heard of. I was wearing my letters so he knew I was in a sorority. He didn’t take me very seriously, and when I asked him what I could do to raise my grade, he assured me that my grades would go up. However, when I received my next test back- after trying to employ the minor details he had corrected on my previous paper- my grade only rose a few points.

I decided to go see the professor and receive his opinion on my work. He seemed disillusioned with the idea of having to review my writing, and after briefly scanning it he declared that he would have given me a B, but it wasn’t his job to grade me. He trusted that my TA understood what was wrong and that I should talk to him. After realizing I wasn’t making much headway, I decided to strike up conversation. “You have a great office. The History Department must really like you!” I followed this with, “Your collection of books is excellent!” Nothing seemed to change his mind about me, besides being flattered by my compliments. Rats.

Additionally, in my meeting with Harry I pulled the card, “Has anyone told you look like Hugh Grant?” to which Harry replied, blushing, “My mom is the only person who has ever told me that.” If Hugh Grant wasn’t going to work, nothing was going to repair this situation. Not only did I study my rear end off, I attended every extra TA session led by another TA (incidentally, another TA who gave A’s according to my classmates). If only my last name was further up the alphabet!

My only answer for their complete lack of sympathy for a student like me was the inevitable cynicism that must develop from teaching hundreds of kids who couldn't care less about history and are taking it only for their core credit. However, I did care about the class, and even with all of the effort I put forth, it didn’t change my grade. I ended up with a big fat C because my TA had decided I was a C. Was it because I was Greek, or was it because he didn’t like me personally? Was he fed up with his job or simply the kind of person who considers a C a job well done? I won’t ever know. I think sometimes it’s hard to say when you’re Greek that you aren’t being discriminated against when you’re wearing your letters and they know what type of background you come from. Sometimes life isn’t fair, but does that mean that we should stop striving for truth? I don’t think so. 

We can’t give up just because some old phrase tells us we can’t get everything that we want. We still have to fight for the grades and fight for ourselves. It definitely was a learning experience for me, but it also made me disappointed in the system. The tolerance that we were taught for others in Freshman Orientation should be applied to all students, including Greeks. In the words of the Greeks themselves, aièn aristeúein, “Ever to Excel!” 

Avery is a sophomore studying English. You may contact her at awalk10@verizon.net.