Today I watched this certain group of my students cheat on the profile quiz they were taking. I wanted to lob something at their collective heads.
I sat in silent rage. Silent rage. I seethed. I sent the evil eye, but that didn't work. I knew I was going to be writing a very awful e-mail later. And I did.
I sent an e-mail to the entire class, being very mysterious. I told them I knew what was going on, that some students had been caught cheating, and I wanted to address the whole class after I had time to simmer down. I told them that I'd already thrown out several of their compadres for plagiarism, and that this--while a lesser form of cheating--still slayed me. That I wanted to smack them.
So, I told them that the people who knew they cheated should come forward and apologize if they wanted to be even half forgiven.
What kills me is that the ones who cheated were some of my best students. Dickheads. And Dickheadesses.