On The One Hand, This Was Stunning And Im Hugging This Affirmation To My Metaphorical Chest. On The Other...this

On the one hand, this was stunning and I’m hugging this affirmation to my metaphorical chest. On the other...this assumes that the major concern, for the kid struggling to turn in an assignment, is the grade. I can assure you that it’s not (or not for many of us).

The smartest kids who still don’t seem to comprehend that 60% will help you not fail? They know that. They are not scared of a bad grade, or not only of that. They’re scared of disappointing their professor and of the threat that they might not really be all that smart. A bad grade earned because of a late assignment isn’t as threatening as a bad grade earned by a bad paper. One is about their behavior, which theoretically can change; the other seems to be an indictment of their capabilities, which are less fluid. (This is flawed logic, because turning in assignments consistently late would indicate a deficit in life skills, but it’s hard to see that when you’re in the weeds.)

I once turned in a paper so late it got me a C+ for the whole class - my only C ever - but I didn’t mind so much, because <i>at least my professor still thought I had good ideas in my paper</i>. At least my paper was honest and well researched.

So unfortunately, this inspiring post wouldn’t have really helped me, when I was stuck in that mentality. It wouldn’t have mattered if my prof had explained to me that I could bump up to a B- in the class if I turned it in two days earlier but 5 points worse. I was completely willing to sacrifice the grade for his good opinion of my scholarship, and for my own intellectual curiosity and pride in the assignment.

What might have helped is if he or someone else had sat me down and said “featherofeeling, I’ve seen the work you’ve done in other assignments, and I know you’re a good writer and capable of research. What I need from you now is to demonstrate that you can fulfill requirements, including sacrificing quality for timeliness if necessary. I probably won’t remember these topics in 6 months anyway, but I’ll remember your presence in my class.”

Certainly no one was obligated to tell me that, and no one really did; but if someone had wanted to help, it’s that kind of advice that might have gotten through.

A reminder that turning in assignments for partial credit is better than not turning them in at all. It is. Even if you think you’ve done a bad job and are ashamed of your work, or it’s way overdue, you take whatever you can get. Partial credit dramatically improves your grade over a zero, and I’m always astounded by how often even the smartest kids don’t really comprehend that. 60% is worlds better than 0%. Even 10% is going to help you. Letter grades are misleading and are not created equal. “F"s are mathematically valuable. Turn that late assignment in.

A GUIDE FOR YOUNG LADIES ENTERING THE SERVICE OF THE FAIRIES, by Rosamund Hodge

I.

This is the lie they will use to break you: no one else has ever loved this way before.

II.

Choose wisely which court you serve. Light or Dark, Summer or Winter, Seelie or Unseelie: they have many names, but the pith of the choice is this: a poisoned flower or a knife in the dark?

(The difference is less and more than you might think.)

Of course, this is only if you go to them for the granting of a wish: to save your father, sister, lover, dearest friend. If you go to get someone back from them, or—most foolish of all—because you fell in love with one of them, you will have no choice at all. You must go to the ones that chose you.

III.

Be kind to the creature that guards your door. Do not mock its broken, bleeding face.

It will never help you in return. But I assure you, someday you will be glad to know that you were kind to something once.

IV.

Do not be surprised how many other mortal girls are there within the halls. The world is full of wishing and of wanting, and the fairies love to play with human hearts.

You will meet all kinds: the terrified ones, who used all their courage just getting there. The hopeful ones, who think that love or cleverness is enough to get them home. The angry ones, who see only one way out. The cold ones, who are already half-fairy.

I would tell you, Do not try to make friends with any of them, but you will anyway.

V.

Sooner or later (if you serve well, if you do not open the forbidden door and let the monster eat you), they will tell you about the game.

Summer battles Winter, Light battles Dark. This is the law of the world. And on the chessboard of the fairies, White battles Black.

In the glory of this battle, the pieces that are brave and strong may win their heart’s desire.

VI.

You already have forgotten how the mortal sun felt upon your face. You already know the bargain that brought you here was a lie.

If you came to save your sick mother, you fear she is dead already. If you came to free your captive sister, your fear she will be sent to Hell for the next tithe. If you came for love of an elf-knight, you are broken with wanting him, and yet he does not seem to know you.

Say yes.

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AAAAHHH can we please have this?

Zimbits fantasy AU reminiscent of Harry Potter:

Bitty lands his broomstick with a heavy heart, lagging behind everyone as they go to the showers. Jack’s words are ringing in his ears, and he doesn’t want to give the captain any more reasons to scream at him. Jack almost acts like he knows what Bitty’s thinking, and agrees with him; he strips and showers in record time, and when Bitty comes out of the showers himself, Jack is already dressed and gone.

“Don’t worry, bro,” Holster says, kicking his pile of gear and then directing it onto the rack with a flick of his wand. “Jack’s just like that. It’s not personal.”

“Considering what he’s been through,” Shitty says, not looking up as he re-bandages his ankle, “it’s not surprising.”

“What did he go through?” Bitty blurts out, and then blanches when they all turn to stare at him.

He keeps doing this; barely a day has passed since he arrived at the Sameell College of Magic that he hasn’t accidentally said or done something that reveals he was homeschooled, didn’t go to one of the tightly-knit magical boarding schools. They share so many things: Slang, handshakes, fashions, in-jokes…

“He defeated the Dark Lord,” Holster says incredulously. “Twice. That not enough?”

…Oh, right. And knowledge of the stupid secret war Bitty’s parents did his best to keep him safe from all these years.

“Bits,” Shitty says, sitting up straight. “Be real with me here. Have you never heard of the Boy Who Lived?”

It’s the bet that really gets me. How often do people bet on Jack’s hockey? How often on him losing? For that matter, on him losing it again, or the kind of drugs he’s on? This is so hopeful and wonderful, and I love Alicia so much in it. She’s vibrant and her own person, in what used to be her own space, and that shows even in how it’s set back from the rest of her family. This is how you write female secondary characters!

I wish you would write a fic where jack comes back from going to kiss bitty at graduation and his parents chirp him SO HARD bc his phone keeps goign off and he's all pleased and bashful about it and doesn't outright admit anything but it's SUPER CLEAR what happend

This is…. not quite what you wanted but it’s set at the same time and its similar. also its what popped into my head as i procrastinate my last paper so…

“Well, that one clearly just got laid,” you say to Ashlyn as the two of you finally get the chance to stand still and lean against the bar. You’re behind it and she’s in the little nook that servers hide in when they don’t want their tables to see them. She swivels her head to see who you are looking at. 

“Which one?”

“Table 4. Dark suit, blue tie, looks just like his dad.”

Ashlyn looks. Then giggles. “You’re fucking right about that. Look at him!”

“So laid,” you agree. “Probably after the ceremony too. And good too. You don’t walk around with a smile like that unless you got right fu–”

“Excuse me?”

Your mouth snaps shut. Hard. Because this place isn’t particularly fancy–but it is the traditional college bar and it is graduation. Which means all the alums and parents are back and you probably should not be talking like this. It’s a classy day. 

And it only gets worse as it turns because this place isn’t classy, but, goodness, this woman is. Reddish-blond hair perfectly styled in that long-bob that’s so in right now, red and white dress, fashionable belt, and blue eyes expertly enhanced by the slightest bit of brown eyeliner. Ugh. After only 4 hours of tending bar on graduation day, you are pretty sure you look like some sort of monster.

Also, she looks vaguely familiar. As if maybe you’ve seen her somewhere. Somewhere important?

Also, she is a paying customer who just overheard you gossiping about how one of the newly graduated college boys probably had sex within the past hour so…

Not a great moment for you, to be honest. 

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Coming back to this because it’s so #relevant to the current #metoo moment.

I was just thinking that we don’t have that many examples in popular culture of expecting better from men. Of sincere apology and making-things-right-again. Of what it might look like for men who have done badly to do better in the future, besides just fading out of public life. And with conservative Alabama voters closing ranks around Roy Moore as part of defending One Of Us, it’s extra nice to see a model of this featuring a rural Southern boy.

(It also looks super tongue-in-cheek and like everything alt-righters make fun of, but it’s a sincerely sweet moment in the movie.)

Tumblr hive mind comes through again

dark bee tumblr show me the forbidden bees