The Problem with Lazy

 “I’m not anti chat gpt as a research tool or really at all when used as intended. (Shocking opinion coming from an educator, I know.) 

I think it’s an amazing resource for gathering information, making plans, and learning unfamiliar procedures from a wide-variety of sources. I’m not anti Spark Notes either (aka Cliff’s Notes for the Gen X reader) because when used correctly, you at least have the ability to stay on track and recall where, when, and who appeared in the story. It’s a valuable tool especially when you’ve fallen behind and need a quick catch up or reference manual. 

As an educator and English teacher, I’m anti anything that does the critical thinking work FOR the human mind. It’s not just lazy; it’s actually dangerous. You haven’t improved your ability to process information, write persuasively, discern truth from fiction, or apply accumulated knowledge and learning. You are literally letting a computer program think for you. (Skynet? Hello? Anyone? Anyone?)

That, Beautiful People, is terrifying. 

I ask students for critical thinking and writing proofs for their opinions. Sometimes they are late or lazy or desperate or dependent, and they copy and paste the prompts into chat gpt, and it spits out the research drawn from all internet sources. (ALL meaning even wrong sources because any idiot can post stuff on the internet. See: this blog.)

It’s so, so easy to spot when AI is used to answer essays. A seventh grader doesn’t jump from five misspellings and manuscript form errors per paragraph to using “subsequently” and “Freudian characterizations” and “his ultimate redemption arc” in an essay. 

So, now that you’ve submitted an essay far above your pay grade, I know several things for sure about you: 1) you’re lazy, 2) you don’t mind artificial intelligence forming opinions for you, and 3) you think I’m stupid. Students won’t even take the five minutes to ensure they know the vocabulary used in the plagiarized internet pap or try to change the verbiage to dumb it down a little for publication. They just copy and paste and hit submit. 

I know, I know, life happens and we sometimes misuse technology to ‘get ‘er done’ but the worst part in all of this is that students are more concerned about the GRADE than about the LEARNING. It’s baking a cake for the photo op and tossing it in the trash without eating any. The purpose of baking a cake is THE CAKE. Grades are ancillary and will come when the learning is the main point.

I think imma have to take it old school on ‘em. Blue books and #2 pencils, here we come. (If you know, you know.)

You think it’s your kid I’m talking about? Maybe. Just ask him/her. Students will look me dead in the eye and say flat out of their little mouths (with great pride in their achievement of mediocrity as though remaining ignorant is gloat-worthy) that they haven’t touched the book one time and then email me in full confidence a collegiate-level essay. 

They’ll probably tell you straight to your face too. (Confidence truly is a double-edged sword.)

I would far rather receive an essay of original thought that sort of sucks in execution than be given papers of gobbledygook. I can fix your ignorance, (it’s sort of my job)  but laziness? That, My Friend, will destroy your entire life one neglected thing at a time—your marriage, friendships, job, reputation—these won’t recover from lazy, dialed in mediocrity. 

You were not designed to settle. Stop doing it. Strive to learn, apply yourself diligently, and the rest will take care of itself. Oh, and do your own blasted work.” 

~ Mrs. C Said So

The Power of a Quick "Yes"

Kids hear “no” or  “don’t” over and over all day at school, church, and home. It’s said so often that it’s one of the first powerful words a toddler learns to say. 

Because “no” is the default answer to most questions they ask, I said yes to my kids all of the time in virtually every circumstance when physically possible. There were three basic guidelines for a sudden ask. 

1) Don’t ask for the permission in front of the person it concerns, 

2) if it involves money, you have to ask privately, 

3) have a pretty solid plan in mind when you approach. 

That was basically it. 

Sonic run at 10:00 on a school night? 

Yup. Bring me a shake. 

Can I paint my room black? 

Okay with me. Put down a tarp, please. 

I want to shave an undercut in my hair. 

Yeah, but you have to have it done professionally. 

We want to dig a trench in the yard and fill it with water. Maybe swim in it. Thoughts? 

Sure thing. Long not deep so you don’t drown or collapse it, please. 

Mom, we heard about this 5k fun run where they spray foam all over you and they have black lights for a glow-in-the-dark rave hosted by a dj, but it’s immediately after the weekend volleyball tournament—like an hour after we finish the tournament. What do you think? 

I think we need custom tshirts and glow paint and glow sticks and a cool racing team name. 

Can we invite ten people to spend the night from my college dorm? They live too far to make it home ahead of the storm for the mandatory closing oh, and we need to come right now. We will be there in three hours. 

Yah. No problem. They’ll have to pile in but okay. 

Can we light the Christmas tree from the trash pile on fire? 

OK. Make sure the hose reaches it. 

We found this dog outside without a collar. If it doesn’t have a home, can we keep it?

Bathe it. Bring it in. You have to clean up after it. 

I really want a tattoo. What do you think?

K. Brandon Evans is the only person doing that to your body. 

So, there were boundaries, but for the most part, it was always a yes. Why? Because the way kids and teens move into being productive, confident, assertive adults is to independently take moderate risks and problem solve alone without immediate adult interference. They have to try. Fail. Try again. Take calculated risks and make mistakes. Try again. Problem solve. Trouble shoot. Try again. They learn lessons when you give them opportunities to face results and consequences. 

There’s nothing about having kids that’s comfortable or clean or peaceful. Quite frankly, they’re the opposite. So inviting their friends over, allowing them to be foolish, taking them on ridiculous outings, being inconvenienced, and allowing them to be kids should just be part of the package. Why would you want to say no?

Seriously, they were A students. 

Was that hour to Sonic going to damage the GPA that much?  

I can repaint. 

It’s hair—it grows back (see: cancer). 

The yard is dirt; there’s more of it, and the hole can be filled in. 

Our racing team name was The Foamy Glowers, and we killed that rave. (I thought I was going to die from exhaustion since it was the week school started, but we did that thing.) 

Your home doesn’t have to be clean; it has to be available. 

The Christmas tree was admittedly a little dicey there for a second, but Carter came in clutch and saved the day (while the girls laughed and took selfies—completely on brand.) (We also learned valuable life lessons about proximity and accelerant.)(Ahem) 

Those dogs that wandered up were the absolute best. 

The tattoos are straight fire. (Well, the “do more” tattoo was stupid, but now that three of us on the fun bus have it, it’s cool again and is quite literally one of the funniest things that has ever happened in our family.) 

This is known as “perspective” or “balance” or “it was hilarious” or “Mom said yes! Get in the car!” Or “We did it for the Gram.” Or “We had the best childhood.”

Absolute truth: my kids were never afraid to ask me anything, because they knew I would really consider the request. When I did say no, I always backed it up with rational, reasonable requests for more information or explanations about why it was a negative.  Now that they are adults, guess who is the first person they call when they are considering something risky or strange or difficult or mundane or questionable? 

(Me. It’s always me.)

Try saying yes and see what happens. They might surprise you. You might have an easier relationship to navigate. You actually might have this thing we call “fun” on occasion yourself. (See: matching Maverick and Goose tshirts at a 5k foam glow rave with the bestie.) 

And is it so bad that you’re a little inconvenienced or your peace is disturbed? (How you respond to that question right there is your ticket to board the fun bus and not everyone gets to ride.)

Stuff is going to get broken. Things might be damaged. It might be crowded and loud and exhausting. But I can guarantee it won't be boring, and it will absolutely be worth it. 

So, is you rollin’ with the squad or nah?

(Yes. A thousand times yes.) 

The Foamy Glowers

Raves are underrated. 

I've never regretted a fun bus outing. 

I wasn't joking about that tree.

Got a little bigger than anticipated. 

Wasn't exaggerating about the selfies. 

Aftermath. 

How many people can we invite?

All of them. 

Those tattoos are all fire tho. 

No, it's not silly. Get on. 

Sure. It can stay. 

These are all different gatherings. 

Yet another one. 

Wasn't joking about the undercut either. 

Wasn't St. Patrick's Day. It was church camp.

The answer to the eternal why is always "yes." 

How many people can we invite? 
Again: all of them. Did we break the chair? Yes. 

Silly photos at the Capital building on a field trip?
Uh, duh. 

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So Long, Paris

Well, it's 2024. I do most of my ranting on Facebook these days. BLOGGING has been reduced to a footnote, because people just don't take the time to read articles anymore. They want quick sound bites and sensational headlines. It's a shame really, since the written word has so many lovely things to convey when wielded properly. 

With that said, I give you the Paris Opening Ceremonies Rant

“In my English class, I teach that the danger/fear in art and music and books is not in the writing or expression of them but in the interpretation. You see, no matter the INTENT of the author or artist, it is the READER and the VIEWER who interprets the meaning.

One way to ensure that your intent is interpreted correctly is to invite criticism. No one actually likes criticism, so we attempt to avoid that by collecting around us a group of people who will agree with us and give us the blanket approval that we so desire rather than honest feedback.

Oftentimes as a result, the artist or the writer or the musician creates the product in a vacuum filled with only ‘yes’ men. And then when the art is released into the wild, and the consumer is the sole interpreter without any outside context, sometimes meaning is lost in translation.

(This is the exact reason you never ever have a fight or an argument or a serious conversation over text or on social media, because no matter what you intended, it is the receiver who interprets your meaning.)

Respectfully, as the viewer and the interpreter and a professional English teacher whose entire job lies in being able to accurately discern intent and interpretation, the opening ceremony to the Olympic Games was absolutely a depiction of Dionysus AND The Last Supper at the same dinner table. But really? It was just weird. Like ‘fever dream put down the pipe and maybe admit that those ‘special’ brownies you ate kicked in extra hard and stop watching “Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure” on repeat now please’ level of weird. Weird is all I’ve got.

And how about this for the Jesus people (of which I am one): stop expecting lost people to behave as anything another other than lost. The man who directed the opening ceremonies might not have had subversive or evil intentions. He might just have thought he was making a beautiful, colorful expression of art. Instead of boycotting, maybe pray for the thousands of missionaries who have purposefully made their way to the Olympics to meet people spiritually where they are not where they ‘should be according to us.’ Maybe try to open a kind-spirited conversation about why this might be upsetting for the cause of Christ in us. And then listen. (Or just share the gospel and let the Holy Spirit do His job.)

(Then tune in and watch athletes compete who had NOTHING to do with the opening ceremonies other than to show up and do what they were told.)

And artsy people (of which I am also one): how about admit the blue dude and the loose testicle and the threesome were maybe a little odd for the Olympic audience. Just maybe? Like in New Orleans at Mardi Gras or Pride parades, I’m totally expecting and preparing for it to be out there, but the opening ceremony for the Olympic Games? Muslim nations and Christian nations and my me-maw in Alabama were on deck watching. How ‘bout some discretion there, Bud? Let’s be patriotic or something.

Speaking of being patriotic, ironically, the blue dude, the drag queens, and the supper club weren’t even close to the most concerning thing I saw. The headless Marie Antoinette singing while holding her head mocking one of the bloodiest Revolutions and sanctimonious murder sprees in the modern age was the most disturbing thing about the entire weird show. That revolution was called the Reign of Terror. You think that Marie Antoinette was responsible for policy making and the ruling in France? She was murdered. You think only guilty policy makers were killed in that Revolution? That’s cute. That thoughtless and callous display of that dead woman was disgusting. And vile. And an embarrassment for France, not something to celebrate. (Ironically, this has hardly been mentioned.) But that was just my interpretation of the show, because that’s how this works.

So, you feel completely free to put your art out there, but understand that everyone, and I do mean everyone, is going to have an opinion about it that might not have been what you intended. Seek outside council. Be a clear, effective communicator. And give a little grace to the artist and the audience, because chances are they might both be wrong.”

~Mrs. C Said So

See also: The French Revolution is considered one of the bloodiest periods in modern history. The Revolution's bloodiest phase was the "Reign of Terror", which lasted from autumn 1793 to summer 1794, when around 30,000 people were executed for allegedly opposing the Revolution. However, most of those executed were commoners, such as day laborers, servants, and carters, rather than royals and nobles.