Formal Essay #2– College Pressures
Combining your own ideas with those from an outside source. PLEASE SEE SYLLABUS FOR DUE DATES
MINIMUM of THREE full double-spaced typed pages (not 2-1/2, 2-3/4, etc.). The third page must be a full page. Your APA formatted cover page is not included in the page count (so it would be a fourth page). Short papers will be downgraded.
Learning objectives:
• How to summarize and paraphrase another writer’s work.
• How to avoid a specific type of plagiarism (using another’s words as your own). • How to express ideas clearly and choose words carefully.
• How to successfully combine first and third person writing.
• How to clearly differentiate between an author's ideas and your own.
• How to use transitions between sentences, paragraphs, and ideas
• How to properly integrate quotes.
Readings: To write this formal essay, you must first read the following, which are posted on Moodle:
“College Pressures†by William Zinsser and “The Social Network†by Adam Liebendorfer.
Your assignment
Your thesis will answer this prompt (also called a “research questionâ€): What are the predominant college pressures among Woodbury students in general, OR within a specific group (for example, international students, those from a specific culture or major, etc.)? The body of your essay will support (prove) your thesis with supporting evidence provided from your own personal experiences and observations, as well as the ideas of Zinsser and/or Liebendorfer.
Your essay should be 5 - 8 paragraphs in length and contain an introduction, a thesis statement, a well-developed of body of supporting evidence, and a conclusion. Your imagined “audience†will include students both inside and outside this class, as well as instructors. You must write your essay in such a way that people unfamiliar with Zissner’s and/or Liebendorfer’s writing will understand both their ideas and your own.
You must paraphrase and quote either Zissner, Liebendorfer, or both in your essay.
You should include your own personal experiencesOR the experiences of others. You should change the names
of the other students you interview to ensure their privacy.
You should have between 3 to 5 quotes in your essay; no quote can be longer than three lines. These quotes can be from Zissner, Leibendorfer, or other Woodbury students.
Your essay should use APA formatting, but you do not need APA citations.
Purpose: This essay is basically a persuasive essay, in that you will be persuading your audience to believe your point-of-view. Your paragraphs may use patterns of definition (you will need to define certain pressures), examples (your own, Zinsser’s, and your friends), cause and effect (you will be proving how certain situations and events can lead to pressure), and compare/contrast (you will be comparing and/or contrasting the pressures of WU students with those that Zinsser describes).Â
Zinsser 1
COLLEGE PRESSURES by William Zinsser
Dear Carlos: I desperately need a dean's excuse for my chem midterm which will begin in about
1 hour. All I can say is that I totally blew it this week. I've fallen incredibly, inconceivably
behind.
Carlos: Help! I'm anxious to hear from you. I'll be in my room and won't leave it until I hear
from you. Tomorrow is the last day for .......
Carlos: I left town because I started bugging out again. I stayed up all night to finish a takehome
make-up exam and am typing it to hand in on the 10th. It was due on the 5th. P.S. I'm
going to the dentist. Pain is pretty bad.
Carlos: Probably by Friday I'll be able to get back to my studies. Right now I'm going to take a
long walk. This whole thing has taken a lot out of me.
Carlos: I'm really up the proverbial creek. The problem is I really bombed the history final.
Since I need that course for my major I ....
Carlos: Here follows a tale of woe. I went home this weekend, had to help my Mom, and caught
a fever so didn't have much time to study. My professor .....
Carlos: Aargh!! Trouble. Nothing original but everything's piling up at once. To be brief, my job
interview .....
Hey Carlos, good news! I've got mononucleosis.
Who are these wretched supplicants, scribbling notes so laden with anxiety, seeking such
miracles of postponement and balm? They are men and women who belong to Branford College,
one of the twelve residential colleges at Yale University, and the messages are just a few of the
hundreds that they left for their dean, Carlos Hortas -- often slipped under his door at 4 a.m. --
last year.
But students like the ones who wrote those notes can also be found on campuses from coast to
coast -- especially in New England, and at many other private colleges across the country that
have high academic standards and highly motivated students. Nobody could doubt that the notes
are real. In their urgency and their gallows humor they are authentic voices of a generation that is
panicky to succeed.
My own connection with the message writers is that I am master of Branford College. I live in its
Gothic quadrangle and know the students well. (We have 485 of them.) I am privy to their hopes
and fears -- and also to their stereo music and their piercing cries in the dead of night ("Does
anybody ca-a-are?"). If they went to Carlos to ask how to get through tomorrow, they come to
me to ask how to get through the rest of their lives.
Zinsser 2
Mainly I try to remind them that the road ahead is a long one and that it will have more
unexpected turns than they think. There will be plenty of time to change jobs, change careers,
change whole attitudes and approaches. They don't want to hear such liberating news. They want
a map -- right now -- that they can follow unswervingly to career security, financial security,
social security and, presumably, a prepaid grave.
What I wish for all students is some release from the clammy grip of the future. I wish them a
chance to savor each segment of their education as an experience in itself and not as a grim
preparation for the next step. I wish them the right to experiment, to trip and fall, to learn that
defeat is as instructive as victory and is not the end of the world.
My wish, of course, is naive. One of the few rights that America does not proclaim is the right to
fail. Achievement is the national god, venerated in our media -- the million dollar athlete, the
wealthy executive -- and the glorified in our praise of possessions. In the presence of such a
potent state religion, the young are growing up old.
I see four kinds of pressure working on college students today: economic pressure, parental
pressure, peer pressure, and self-induced pressure. It is easy to look around for villians -- to
blame the colleges for charging too much money, the professors for assigning too much work,
the parents for pushing their children too far, the students for driving themselves too hard. But
there are are no villians, only victims.
"In the late 1960's," one dean told me, "the typical question that I got from students was, 'Why is
there so much suffering in the world?' or 'How can I make a contribution?' Today it's, 'Do you
think it would look better for getting into law school if I did a double major in history and
political science, or just majored in one of them?' Many other deans confirmed this pattern. One
said, "They're trying to find an edge -- the intangible something that will look better on paper if
two students are about equal." Note the emphasis on looking better. The transcript has become a
sacred document, the passport to security. How one appears on paper is more important than how
one appears in person. A is for Admirable and B is for Borderline, even though, in Yale's official
system of grading, A means "excellent" and B means "very good." Today, looking very good is
no longer enough, especially for students who hope to go on to law school or medical school.
They know that entrance into the better schools will be an entrance into the better law firms and
better medical practices where they will make a lot of money. They also know that the odds are
harsh, Yale Law School, for instance, matriculates 170 students from an applicant pool of 3,700;
Harvard enrolls 550 from a pool of 7,000.
It's all very well for those of us who write letters of recommendation for our students to stress the
qualities of humanity that will make them good lawyers or doctors. And it's nice to think that
admission officers are really reading our letters and looking for the extra dimension of
commitment or concern. Still, it would be hard for a student not to visualize these officers
shuffling so many transcripts studded with A's that they regard a B as positively shameful.
Zinsser 3
The pressure is almost as heavy on students who just want to graduate and get a job. Long gone
are the days of the "gentlemen's C," when students journeyed through college with a certain
relaxation, sampling a wide variety of courses -- music, art, philosophy, classics, anthropology,
poetry, religion -- that would send them out as liberally educated men and women. If I were an
employer I would employ graduates who have this range and curiousity rather than those who
narrowly purused safe subjects and high grades. I know countless students whose inquiring
minds exhilarate me. I like to hear the play of their ideas. I don't know if they are getting A's or
C's, and I don't care. I also like them as people. The country needs them, and they will find
satisfying jobs. I tell them to relax. They can't.
Nor can I blame them. They live in a brutal economy. Tuition, room, and board at most private
colleges now comes to at least $7,000, not counting books and fees. This might seem to suggest
that the colleges are getting rich. But they are equally battered by inflation. Tuition covers only
60% of what it costs to educate a student, and ordinarily the remainder comes from what colleges
receive in endowments, grants, and gifts. Now the remainder keeps being swallowed by the cruel
costs higher every year, of just opening the doors. Heating oil is up. Insurance is up. Postage is
up. Health premium costs are up. Everything is up. Deficits are up. We are witnessing in
America the creation of a brotherhood of paupers -- colleges, parents and students, joined by the
common bond of debt.
Today it is not unusual for a student, even if he works part-time at college and full-time during
the summer, to accrue $5,000 in loans after four years -- loans that he must start to repay within
one year after graduation. Exhorted at commencement to go forth into the world, he is already
behind as he goes forth. How could he not feel under pressure throughout college to prepare for
this day of reckoning? I have used "he," incidentally, only for brevity. Women at Yale are under
no less pressure to justify their expensive education to themsleves, their parents, and society. In
fact, they are probably under more pressure. For although they leave college superbly equipped
to bring fresh leadership to traditionally male jobs, society hasn't yet caught up with that fact.
Along with economic pressure goes parental pressure. Inevitably, the two are deeply intertwined.
I see many students taking pre-medical courses with joyless tenacity. They go off to their labs as
if they were going to the dentist. It saddens me because I know them in other corners of their life
as cheerful people.
"Do you want to go to medical school?" I ask them.
"I guess so," they say, without conviction, or "Not really."
"Then why are you going?"
"Well, my parents want me to be a doctor. They're paying all this money and ..."
Poor students, poor parents. They are caught in one of the oldest webs of love and duty and guilt.
The parents mean well; they are trying to steer their sons and daughters toward a secure future.
But the sons and daughters want to major in history or classics or philosophy -- subjects with no
Zinsser 4
"practical" value. Where's the payoff on the humanities? It's not easy to persuade such loving
parents that the humanities do, indeed, pay off. The intellectual faculties developed by studying
subjects like history and classics -- an ability to synthesize and relate, to weigh cause and effect,
to see events in perspective -- are just the faculties that make creative leaders in business or
almost any general field. Still, many thaters would rather put their money on courses that point
toward a specific profession -- courses that are pre-law, pre-medical, pre-business, or as I
sometimes put it, "pre-rich."
But the pressure on students is severe. They are truly torn. One part of them feels obligated to
fulfill their parents' expectations; after all, their parents are older and presumably wiser. Another
part tells them that the expectations that are right for their parents are not right for them.
I know a student who wants to be an artist. She is very obviously an artist and will be a good one
-- she has already had several modest local exhibits. Meanwhile she is growing as a well-rounded
person and taking humanistic subjects that will enrich the inner resources out of which her art
will grow. But her father is strongly opposed. He thinks that an artist is a "dumb" thing to be.
The student vacillates and tries to please everybody. She keeps up with her art somewhat
furtively and takes some of the "dumb" courses her father wants her to take -- at least they are
dumb courses for her. She is a free spirit on a campus of tense students -- no small achievement
in itself -- she deserves to follow her muse.
Peer pressure and self-induced pressure are also intertwined, and they begin almost at the
beginning of freshman year.
"I had a freshman student I'll call Linda, " one dean told me, "who came in and said she was
under terrible pressure because her roommate, Barbara, was much brighter and studied all the
time. I couldn't tell her that Barabra had come in two hours earlier to say the same thing about
Linda."
The story is almost funny -- except that it's not. It's symptomatic of all the pressures put together.
When every student thinks every other student is working harder and doing better, the only
solution is to study harder still. I see students going off to the library every night after dinner and
coming back when it closes at midnight. I wish they would sometimes forget about their peers
and go to a movie. I hear the clack of typewriters in the hours before dawn. I see the tension in
their eyes when exams are approaching and papers are due : "Will I get everything done?"
Probably they won't. They will get sick. They will get "blocked". They will sleep. They will
oversleep. They will bug out. Hey Carlos, Help!
Part of the problem is that they do more than they are expected to do. A professor will assign
five-page papers. Several students will start writing ten-page papers, and a few will raise the ante
to fifteen. Pity the poor student who is still just doing the assignment.
"Once you have twenty or thirty percent of the student population deliberately overexerting," one
dean points out, "it's just bad for everybody. When a teacher gets more and more effort from his
Zinsser 5
class, the student who is doing normal work can be perceived as not doing well. The tactic
works, psychologically."
Why can't the professor just cut back and not accept longer papers? He can and he probably will.
But by then the term will be half over and the damage done. Grade fever is highly contagious
and not easily reversed. Besides, the professor's main concern is with his course. He knows his
students only in relation to the course and doesn't know that they are also overexerting in their
other courses. Nor is it really his business. He didn't sign up for dealing with the student as a
whole person and with all the emotional baggage the student brought from home. That's what
deans, masters, chaplains, and psychiatrists are for.
To some extent this is nothing new: a certain number of professors have always been selfcontained
islands of scholarship and shyness, more comfortable with books than with people.
But the new pauperism has widened the gap still further, for professors who actually like to
spend time with students don't have as much time to spend. They also are overexerting. If they
are young, they are busy trying to publish in order not to perish, hanging by their fingernails onto
a shrinking profession. If they are old and tenured, they are buried under the duties of
administering departments -- as departmental chairmen or members of committees -- that have
been thinned out by the budgetary axe.
Ultimately it will be the student's own business to break the circles in which they are trapped.
They are too young to be prisoners of their parents' dreams and their classmates' fears. They must
be jolted into believing in themselves as unique men and women who have the power to shape
their own future.
"Violence is being done to the undergraduate experience," says Carlos Horta. "College should be
open-ended; at the end it should open many, many roads. Instead, students are choosing their
goal in advance, and their choices narrow as they go along, it's almost as if they think that the
country has been codified in the type of jobs that exist -- that they've got to fit into certain slots.
Therefore, fit into the best-paying slot."
"They ought to take chances. Not taking chances will lead to a life of colorless mediocrity.
They'll be comfortable. But something in the spirit will be missing."
I have painted too drab a portrait of today's students, making them seem a solemn lot. That is
only half of their story: if they were so dreary I wouldn't so thoroughly enjoy their company. The
other half is that they are easy to like. They are quick to laugh and to offer friendship. They are
not introverts. They are unusually kind and are more considerate of one another than any student
generation I have known.
Nor are they so obsessed with their studies that they avoid sports and extra-curricular activities.
On the contrary, they juggle their crowded hours to play on a variety of teams, peform with
musical and dramatic groups, and write for campus publications. But this in turn is one more
cause of anxiety. There are too many choices. Academically, they have 1,300 courses to select
from; outside class they have to decide how much spare time they can spare and how to spend it.
Zinsser 6
This means that they engage in fewer extracurricular pursuits than their predecessors did. If they
want to row on the crew and play in the symphony they will eliminate one; in the '60's they
would have done both. They also tend to choose activities that are self-limiting. Drama, for
instance, is flourishing in all twelve of Yale's residential colleges as it never has before. Students
hurl themselves into these productions -- as actors, directors, carpenters, and technicians -- with a
dedication to create the best possible play, knowing that the day will come when the run will end
and they can get back to their studies.
They also can't afford to be the willing slave for organizations like the Yale Daily News. Last
spring at the one hundredth anniversary banquet of that paper whose past chairmen include such
once and future kings as Potter Stewart, Kingman Brewster, and William F. Buckley, Jr. -- much
was made of the fact that the editorial staff used to be small and totally committed and that
"newsies" routinely worked fifty hours a week. In effect they belonged to a club; Newsies is how
they defined themselves at Yale. Today's student will write one or two articles a week, when he
can, and he defines himself as a student. I've never heard the word Newsie except at the banquet.
If I have described the modern undergraduate primarily as a driven creature who is largely
ignoring the blithe spirit inside who keeps trying to come out and play, it's because that's where
the crunch is, not only at Yale but throughout American education. It's why I think we should all
be worried about the values that are nurturing a generation so fearful of risk and so goal-obsessed
at such an early age.
I tell students that there is no one "right" way to get ahead -- that each of them is a different
person, starting from a different point and bound for a different destination. I tell them that
change is a tonic and that all the slots are not codified nor the frontiers closed. One of my ways
of telling them is to invite men and women who have achieved success outside the academic
world to come and talk informally with my students during the year. They are heads of
companies or ad agencies, editors of magazines, politicians, public officials, television magnates,
labor leaders, business executives, Broadway producers, artists, writers, economists,
photographers, scientists, historians -- a mixed bag of achievers.
I ask them to say a few words about how they got started. The students assume that they started
in their present profession and knew all along that it was what they wanted to do. Luckily for me,
most of them got into their field by a circuitious route, to their surprise, after many detours. The
students are startled. They can hardly conceive of a career that was not pre-planned. They can
hardly imagine allowing the hand of God or chance to nudge them down some unforeseen trail.