2008 Woodie Awards
Freshman experiences of the Honor Board
Regina Pynn
Issue date: 9/28/06 Section: Campus Life
- Page 1 of 1
I distinctly remember my first exposure to the Honor System.
"There aren't any proctored tests here," my tour guide remarked as I was still discerning my college choice. "The Honor Code takes care of that. As long as you pledge your work, professors are okay giving out take home tests and group work."
What a drastic change, what a refreshing switch from high school this policy seemed. It solidified what had always been my impression of college: the end of adolescence and the beginning of life and responsibility. From having curfews and detentions to receiving a take-home final, this transition seemed exciting and something of an honor.
There is no single victory in higher education. The student who sweats out four years of lab reports, lectures, and all-nighters with the sole purpose of receiving a diploma has utterly failed. Too much time, too much money, too much of the soul goes into these years for them to not be about knowledge. We are here at Stevens not to learn the way lab animals do, through rewards and punishment and routine, but the way scholars do and the way great minds throughout history are revered for doing. We are here for the rush of excitement when a program finally runs or an equation balances that those who have not put a part of themselves into their work will never understand.
And if the entire student body understood that purpose, the Honor System would be unnecessary. You have not increased your knowledge, you have not truly gained anything, by crossing the hall and borrowing Chem homework. These breaches of integrity would be understood as admissions of failure and signs of inferiority.
It is a lie that no one has faith in the system. We want all of us to really believe in the system. We want to know we can leave our homework on our desk without someone copying. For the first week of classes, everyone I came across was concerned with upholding the Code. In every class someone asked the professor what they should do about the pledge or about group work or even about asking others for help. The seriousness of their questioning was not matched by the responses they received, which were often vague and showed little real concern with the Honor System. Upon questioning upper-class students it became obvious that the pledge holds no real value for many Stevens students and, indeed, is mocked if not ignored completely.
It would be nice if we could blame the lack of enthusiasm on a single thing. Is it the fault of the professors for not emphasizing the Code in their everyday lectures? Is it the Honor Board's fault for not making prosecutions more public? Could it simply be a flaw of human nature? Can there ever really be a system that makes people leave their sloth and apathy for the thrill of discovery and pride in their labor?
The time is swiftly approaching when difficult questions need to be asked- not only to the members of the Honor Board, but by every student and professor in this university. Why are we here, teaching our passions and learning our futures, if the integrity of our community has no value? It is easiest to leave the status quo and allow the Honor System to become even more a symbol of disillusioned principle, but this cannot be allowed to happen.
We pledge our obedience to the Honor Code on every piece of paper. Do we actively support it at all?
"There aren't any proctored tests here," my tour guide remarked as I was still discerning my college choice. "The Honor Code takes care of that. As long as you pledge your work, professors are okay giving out take home tests and group work."
What a drastic change, what a refreshing switch from high school this policy seemed. It solidified what had always been my impression of college: the end of adolescence and the beginning of life and responsibility. From having curfews and detentions to receiving a take-home final, this transition seemed exciting and something of an honor.
There is no single victory in higher education. The student who sweats out four years of lab reports, lectures, and all-nighters with the sole purpose of receiving a diploma has utterly failed. Too much time, too much money, too much of the soul goes into these years for them to not be about knowledge. We are here at Stevens not to learn the way lab animals do, through rewards and punishment and routine, but the way scholars do and the way great minds throughout history are revered for doing. We are here for the rush of excitement when a program finally runs or an equation balances that those who have not put a part of themselves into their work will never understand.
And if the entire student body understood that purpose, the Honor System would be unnecessary. You have not increased your knowledge, you have not truly gained anything, by crossing the hall and borrowing Chem homework. These breaches of integrity would be understood as admissions of failure and signs of inferiority.
It is a lie that no one has faith in the system. We want all of us to really believe in the system. We want to know we can leave our homework on our desk without someone copying. For the first week of classes, everyone I came across was concerned with upholding the Code. In every class someone asked the professor what they should do about the pledge or about group work or even about asking others for help. The seriousness of their questioning was not matched by the responses they received, which were often vague and showed little real concern with the Honor System. Upon questioning upper-class students it became obvious that the pledge holds no real value for many Stevens students and, indeed, is mocked if not ignored completely.
It would be nice if we could blame the lack of enthusiasm on a single thing. Is it the fault of the professors for not emphasizing the Code in their everyday lectures? Is it the Honor Board's fault for not making prosecutions more public? Could it simply be a flaw of human nature? Can there ever really be a system that makes people leave their sloth and apathy for the thrill of discovery and pride in their labor?
The time is swiftly approaching when difficult questions need to be asked- not only to the members of the Honor Board, but by every student and professor in this university. Why are we here, teaching our passions and learning our futures, if the integrity of our community has no value? It is easiest to leave the status quo and allow the Honor System to become even more a symbol of disillusioned principle, but this cannot be allowed to happen.
We pledge our obedience to the Honor Code on every piece of paper. Do we actively support it at all?
Viewing Comments 1 - 1 of 2
Timothy Garner
posted 10/02/06 @ 1:07 PM EST
"Is it the Honor Board's fault for not making prosecutions more public? "
Prosecutions are kept secret to protect the students involved. The honor board rules do not allow the honor board to discuss prosecutions. (Continued…)
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