In the Moodle: keeping in step, and all that jazz

I am NOT good at conforming with my peers.

I'm the one who had Barbie before she was fashionable, and was over her by the time she became trailer-trash common. I'm the one who walks into a clothing store, takes one look at 'this season's fashion colours' (on one memorable occasion insipid blue, diluted-sputum green and a shade politely called 'mulberry' which I believe is more accurately described by the onomatopoeic 'puce'), turns on her heel and goes to find an op shop because I'd rather be uncool than be taken for a fool. (Pardon the poetry.  It just happens.)

Worse still, I'm the one tapping my feet waiting for most of my peers to finish what they're trying to say at some idiot social gathering, because I'm not pissed, I'm way ahead of them and it's taking all my self-control not to interrupt and tell them what they're trying to say. Being smart has its drawbacks. It makes life within the cohort a little, um, trying at times, because it's so damn hard to pretend you're still interested when your brain has 'shot round the corner' (to paraphrase Lawrence, 1992).

Pardon me referencing my 7-year-old son, but he put it so well, even at that age. He's gifted too.

So, given that my last measured IQ was in the sort of range that causes people to make an excuse to walk away because they feel vaguely uncomfortable if it's mentioned, and given that writing is my passion and delight, a compulsory 'academic literacy' course was always going to be a bit of a doddle.  Today, July 31st, I found myself doing an assignment that's due on September 2nd, just for fun.  And because I could.

You see, the reason I can't keep in step is that I'm intrinsically different. Giftedness is a sort of special need. I'd rather have it than not have it, of course; but being different does cause a few problems if it's not considered in the context of distributing marks to randomly allocated pairs of students.

Yep, I could hand in my 'academic paragraphs' right now, and I'd put money on getting (at the very least) a distinction. The only thing I found difficult was how to get enough references into 300 words to be sure of an HD (and still have room for the tiny allowable amount of original content).

But I can't just hand it in and move on; that's not the way it works here. At TAFE, while doing my Diploma in Children's Services to satisfy the paper-pushers, I was able to bully the lecturers into feeding me material at my pace, and so I finished the course in exactly half the scheduled time. But not here. Here, I have to prove that I can work with my colleagues (?) by submitting my paragraphs via the internet to a stranger peer for criticism (am I the only one who sees the bodgy in this?), then critiquing her paragraphs in return.

There are several problems implicit in this (other than the bodginess of the premise that internet communication based around conformity to a rubric bears any resemblance to working out real issues with real-life colleagues). The most irritating, to me, is that I have to mark time until my randomly chosen 'paragraph partner' catches up, closely followed by the irritation of the random malfunctions that seem to grace the university communication software (appropriately titled 'Moodle', presumably in order to attract bad puns on the theme of student discontent, but more reminiscent of a cross between a moggie and a poodle- pretending to be something special, but intrinsically badly behaved).

More concerning, though, is that this particular playing field is far from level. I have no doubt that I can mentor my partner to a point where her paragraphs will, in effect, have been marked and remarked by an expert before she submits them; hardly fair to the other students, but that's the luck of the draw I guess. Strangely, I didn't associate a university degree with a game of chance. If there was any justice, I would be teamed non-randomly with an ESL student who really needed my help, or allowed to help all the other students. (If there was any justice, I would have had an opportunity to demonstrate that I don't actually need to pay a cool $600 to do this subject- but yet again, I digress.)

And what of my poor random partner? God, I hope she's clever; I hope that, by some mad coincidence, she also has a stupidly high IQ but has chosen Early Childhood teaching because it's her vocation and she loves it. Because otherwise, I will be forced to apologise for the fact that there's not really much for her to say about my paragraphs that will get her marks for picking up my errors, rather than laughing with her about how we'll work out a way to pick holes in each other's masterpieces of rubric-adherence. (Yep, we also have to submit our critiques and responses for assessment.) Fat chance.

Failing that, I hope that the lecturers have devised a strategy for this situation which means that I haven't nobbled a fellow student simply by picking Group 14 from an anonymous list.

I refuse to pretend I'm less capable than I am. I shouldn't have to pretend. And in a situation like this, I simply can't keep in step.