My freshman-year roommate graduated from the most prestitious, most expensive private school in Oklahoma City. She'd been accepted to Columbia already, but her parents wanted her to stick around for a year so they could keep an eye on her (at 18 years old, she was already a recovering alcoholic.) Anyway, at the end of the year, she showed me this term paper she'd written for a class on poetry.
The thesis statement? "My favorite poem by X is Y." Used first person throughout. Didn't cite any sources; hell, she didn't even have a bibliography!
"Do you think I need a works cited page or something?"
I could only gape in horror. And yes, she did go on to graduate from Columbia.
no subject
*laughs* Oh, lord, you'll love this story.
My freshman-year roommate graduated from the most prestitious, most expensive private school in Oklahoma City. She'd been accepted to Columbia already, but her parents wanted her to stick around for a year so they could keep an eye on her (at 18 years old, she was already a recovering alcoholic.) Anyway, at the end of the year, she showed me this term paper she'd written for a class on poetry.
The thesis statement? "My favorite poem by X is Y." Used first person throughout. Didn't cite any sources; hell, she didn't even have a bibliography!
"Do you think I need a works cited page or something?"
I could only gape in horror. And yes, she did go on to graduate from Columbia.