The thing that makes me so mad about it all is how gung-ho the sixteen of us were at first. We all looked forward to class, we showed up early to study together, we set up an email list so that we could bounce things off of each other. And now, a little over halfway in, we drag ourselves in and trudge through the four hours, the little surreptitious stabs we poke at our instructors the jabs of solidarity we need to make it through. Today was a lab day which means we had the two most loathed instructors.
Instructor #1, Tom, is a firefighter in Parma and a cop on campus and a textbook case of a egomaniac riding out a powertrip. The first day we had him in class he stood at the door five minutes before class was scheduled to start and asked each person who came through "can I help you?" He was the time cop that day, and it didn't matter that no one was actually late yet. He had the badge and you didn't, so you could shut the hell up. After the third student who came through the door "late" had to go through this, the rest of us couldn't even look at each other anymore for fear of laughing. I mean... seriously? This is a college class. We are all paying to be here. The ritual is different each class, but is essentially the same; "there is no protocol for you to follow for what I want you to do, which makes it easier for me to yell at you when you do it wrong. How can you know what I want if I never tell you?" Last week one of the guys in class said he was going to make Tom a tshirt that says simply, "I love myself." I joked that Tom wouldn't get the chiding and would actually wear the tshirt with great pride. "look what my students gave me!"
Instructor #2, Randy... how to even describe. He is an idiot. Thankfully we only have to see him on lab days because he's the "lab instructor." Everyone
dreads lab days. Randy is one of those people who just wants everyone else to be wrong. He will give us scenarios in lab and as we're going through the motions of how we'd respond, he yells at us about how we don't know what we're doing. About how we're wrong. He'll ask us the same question eight times and doesn't accept any of our answers. When he finally tells us what he's looking for we all roll our eyes for the fact that the first or second person to respond answered with that. He doesn't hear it because he wants us to be wrong. I will never understand this mindset. I have only experienced it with men. Men, this is what makes me think that you are flawed. :) He doesn't actually instruct us, ever. He just throws us scenarios and yells at us about what we did wrong. Last month my best friend in the class yelled at him because the answer he was looking for was "assess the ABCs," and the first guy said that. Randy didn't hear it. When he finally admitted that this was the answer he was looking for, she told him, "that was the first thing we said. When you didn't acknowledge it we all started to doubt what we've been reading from the text. We aren't learning in labs, labs are actually doing us damage because we are starting to think that what we know is wrong."
He hasn't changed.
Today started out the same as always. Tom yelled at us about passing around the sign-in sheet in a way he didn't like, and we all collectively rolled our eyes. We split into two teams and the first team had to go with Randy. My group had to do the AED and CPR with Tom, for probably the sixth time. We are all champs with the AED. Anything else practical, not so much.
When Randy's group came in when it was time to switch, everyone looked so downtrodden. One of the guys, Axel, was shaking his head. "What's wrong brother?" I asked him. "I just can't deal with this guy. This is just ridiculous." Another one of the guys came in, shaking his head. "What are you doing out there," those of us who had been Tom wanted to know. "You don't even need to know what's on the skill sheet. You can't be right. He will just sign off on your paper, just nod in agreement a lot."
My blood started to boil right about this point. We are all taking this class to be EMTs, to help save people's lives. An instructor who just wants to be right is a liability if we're not actually learning anything from him. I went out into the hallway with Randy in the wrong mindset. I could feel it, my ears were already red.
The first scenario went exactly as they always do. Yelling, frustration, no learning. I wasn't in the first group, so I got to stand back with my group and vent about the whole process. When it came time for my group, no one wanted to be there anymore. He asked us what we would do because the patient was going into shock. "Administer oxygen, keep them warm, and provide rapid transport." "WHY??" His eyes were boring holes into me. "Because their perfusion is rapidly diminishing and the body will need more oxygen." I fired back. He just looked angry, and he was only looking at me. "You are so set on this idea of perfusion. You have perfusion down." He was angry. He was mocking me. I thought of the first day in lab when I answered one of his questions using the word "exacerbate." He said, "hey that's a good word, exasterbate." Did I say yet that he's not really the sharpest tool in the shed?
His face was red and it was like he and I were the only people in class. I was giving him Dad's patented eye fuck, and I felt my cheeks flush. I felt like the Incredible Hulk, except red where I should have been green. "You guys can't think outside the box!" Before he could speak anymore, my mouth opened. I heard my voice speak for all of us, collectively. "Well then you tell me. We are all rattling off what we know, what you have taught us. This is so unbelievably frustrating. We have all obviously reached the limit of what we know to respond with, and still we're wrong. Yelling at us isn't going to help us pass the test or stick with us when we're in the field." No one would make eye contact with anyone. I don't even remember what Randy said after that. I was past the boiling point. I remember someone making a joke about my perfusion looking like it was pretty good at that moment. It was the end of class and Randy just started signing off on our test papers, truly demonstrating that his appraisal of our clinical skills was nothing more than a rubber stamp. He wasn't even evaluating us as we did the drill!
I just wanted to leave because the last thing I wanted to happen at that point was to be pulled aside and roped into a one on one conversation with the guy. As he signed his initials at the bottom of my paper he said, "you can't get so rattled by stuff. I'm putting this stuff to you guys so you know it." It was the way that a weak mind seeks justification for being wrong. I couldn't let him end on that note; call it ego, call it whatever. Maybe I'm a last word freak. "It's not about getting rattled. It's about being extremely frustrated with the way labs are conducted," and I took my paper back and I started walking up the steps. We left one by one, as he signed our papers, so I didn't have a chance to gage my tiff with Randy off my classmates. I don't know if they thought it was inappropriate, but in my heart I know that it was warranted. The whole time I was down there I was thinking, "how would Anne react to this?" and as my ears grew redder and I couldn't bite my tongue any longer, I just smiled knowing she would have done the same thing. Rob says they have to make their hot tub payment somehow. I say you don't go into the field of teaching without taking the full responsibility of that choice into your heart. We are his charge, and it is ethically unacceptable for him to screw dick around with us the way he does.
Maybe I'm naive or too sensitive. I however, think it's the Jindra Spirit. You have a responsibility, making the choice you did. I am here to not let you forget it.
