When I was still shiny new and considering taking up teaching, I sat in with some old teachers of mine. One of them, the terror of the school, gave me sets of index cards to grade. They were for term papers, ostensibly assembled by the best and brightest if they were taking his class. He told me to check that each student had a subject that could be proven (Not Mark Twain was the greatest American writer for instance) and three real sources in bibliographical form. It was appalling.

He did it on purpose to make sure I knew what I was getting into. As you know, I didn't become a teacher. I think I would have been one of the good ones, but his attitude toward the job worried me almost as much as their inability to execute that task.