Nicole Robinson

I knew I had a quiz due for one of my journalism classes last week. I’m a student journalist. I don’t miss deadlines -well, assuming I can get ahold of all my sources and track down the right information.

I printed the aforementioned quiz off of Desire2Learn, put pen to paper and then filled out the quiz yet again electronically. Then, I dragged my mouse over to the “submit” button and clicked.

In, right? I thought so. I was off to e-mail checking and, I’ll admit, Facebooking.

Well, according to the list of grades posted on the course’s D2L site, I earned a 0/12 on that quiz and now have a zero percent in an important class.

Just because technology is convenient doesn’t mean it needs to replace the traditional ways of interacting and the pen-to-paper quizzing system I’ve grown to know and well, not love, but at least gotten used to.

I know paper is expensive and the less paperwork for everybody the better, supposedly, but I also know that I happen to like paper I can jot notes on.

Also, more paper doesn’t have to equal more correcting. I’m under the impression scantron sheets can be checked quickly. Perhaps that is an example of how technology is beneficial – although, I must note, one of my professors distributed tests that her students were able to write on, corrected each one by hand, and a week later I had the copy of my test in hand so I could see and understand my mistakes.

And then there’s the whole: “Before I start lecturing, please hand in the assignment I e-mailed you last night at midnight” comment I’ve heard more than once in the past few years.

It’s not like I’m sleeping at midnight and that’s why I didn’t access my e-mail. Usually I’m wrapping up an article, attempting to understand some lab assignment for a science class or relaxing with some sitcom.

But, sometimes, I just glance over the e-mails I receive even at a decent hour. Maybe it’s because I work for The Spectator and get 10 to 20 super-fun – seriously, they amuse me – mass e-mails every so often on top of e-mails sent for class, but my inbox is stuffed. So, if a professor’s e-mail exceeds a paragraph or two, you can bet that I’m off clicking on the next one and just making a mental note to check it later.

Hence, if the addition to that assignment you gave me last week comes at the end of paragraph eight of your lengthy e-mail, it will take someone in my class saying, “Hey, did you do that yet?” for me to realize I haven’t.

And then there’s those 30-page packets I have to run off every so often. It’s really fun when there’s a line forming behind you in the library because the printer is only spitting out page 10 of your 40-page handout. Or when you realize too late that you only have 38 pages of computer paper with you and have to walk to your dorm or your off-campus house or whatever to get more, either that or borrow some from the kid sitting next to you.

D2L’s discussion feature can be beneficial, as students are able to post in an e-mail-format questions or comments that can be seen by all their peers. Sometimes I’m extremely impressed by and even jealous of some people’s contributions and will look forward to see what John Doe’s perspective on the next prompt is.

But, unfortunately, I get to know John Doe by just his prompt and not his face. That is not a good way to make friends with my classmates.

I really appreciate that professors take the time to post such prompts and to take time out of their nights at home with their families to e-mail an extra article to read. I don’t want to sound ungrateful. And, granted, D2L does have its perks. Professors can post syllabi, an outline of the course with links to power points and my grades, and I appreciate having the online reference site should I need it.

However, to expect me to be in “gotta check my e-mail and D2L” mode 24 hours a day, seven days a week is absurd. I’m human. I make mistakes, and sometimes so does my computer. My grade shouldn’t take a plunge because my computer did one day. And, like me, my computer should be able to shut down every once in awhile.