On Campus

Mo’ people, mo’ problems: A meditation on group projects in the style of Notorious B.I.G.

by Kiki Schmitz on April 9, 2010

A particularly notorious rapper once noted the positive correlation between income and issues. Biggie’s “Mo Money, Mo Problems” hypothesis includes a lyrical plea for the real playas to step up, indicating their presence by waving Rolex-laden wrists in the air.

And while I might not have that much in common with Big (any one: Big Pun, Big L or Notorious), I do have to echo his sentiment when applied to group projects. As a college student, I’ve picked up rather quickly that when your GPA is on the line mo’ people means mo’ problems. Sometimes, like Biggie, I just want to ask all my true Type A people to raise their planners in the air.

It’s not that I don’t like group projects. Who can argue with a concept based on cooperation, compromise, and a chance to cut your workload by 75 percent? No, it isn’t the game I hate, but the players. And with that I present, The Five People You Meet in Group Projects.

The One Who Is Chronically Absent: After assigning the final project from Helena, most professors give students a few minutes to meet up with their groups in various corners of the room, where they awkwardly exchange email addresses and agree to meet Sunday afternoons.

Inevitably, one of the planner-toting Type As will take a quick head count and realize that the group is one member short. The missing member usually has a nondescript name, like Catherine or Matthew, and those present might make bland generalizations about his or her presumed identity like, “Oh yeah, she sits near the front. With the sweatpants,” or, “I think he was in my dorm freshman year. Does he have brown hair? Wait no, maybe that was a different Matt. Sorry!” Four meetings later, it becomes apparent that Catherine has dropped the class and is now pursing a Psych major. And Matt? Does he even go here?

The One Who Did Something Just Like This Last Semester: No matter how obscure the topic, there’s always an expert. Perhaps someone’s uncle happens to own a honey bee farm, or someone’s neighbor specializes in gluten-free rice crispies treats. Someone who knows EXACTLY what to do. So much, in fact, that they are going to do the whole group a giant favor and invite Uncle Herman to bring a hive or two to lecture.

Sometimes the expert claims their title because their summer internship was pretty similar. For example, both tasks involved maintaining a binder and operating an industrial-strength stapler.

The One Who Does All The Work: Everyone I’ve ever heard vent about group projects swears their partners are inept slackers, and that they must bear the entire workload themselves. With this in mind, one could assume that everyone I associate with is either exceptionally motivated or a little whiney. In any case, it’s almost a guarantee that a group leader will emerge to take on the brunt of the project.

This is often a self-inflicted condition. Trusting peers with something as precious as their pristine GPA? Please. Delegating is for quitters. Instead, worker types have mastered the art of pseudo-delegation.

For instance, Susan might say, “Well, Olivia can do the cover page, and then Frank, you can just email me all your sources so I can put them in MLA format. Peter, could you go to Office Max and get a 1.5 inch binder? And maybe some of those plastic sheet protectors with the tabs on the side? I’ll just do the paper part this weekend, I have time. We can figure out the PowerPoint next Sunday!”

The One Who Is Afraid To Have An Opinion: There’s always a quieter group member, usually a girl, one who usually dresses like a small town high school senior, but is so soft-spoken and genuine that you can’t help but like her. What she lacks in assertiveness she makes up for in agreeability. We need someone to email our TA hourly updates? Sure, she can do it, that’s okay. Unless someone else wants to. Does someone else want to? Because they could do it then, if they want. But if no one wants to she could totally do it, really. Okay, she’ll go ahead and send the emails.

Favorite phrases include:  “Sure, that sounds good,” “This is probably a dumb idea, but maybe we could…” and “I don’t care, whatever you think is best!”

The One Who Asks Excessive Questions: The inquisitive group member may appear at first glance to be very similar to the one who does all the work. With so many concerns and hypothetical scenarios, he must be awfully committed to the cause. False. For one thing, the curious kid knows that when you try hard, that’s when you die hard. But more importantly, this guy is also aware that the key to rocking peer evaluations without sweating it up at Club Ellis is all about appearances.

A steady stream of questions, paired with a verbal promise to double-check with the TA about them, plants this member safely in the involved zone. Inquiries like, “Hey, were we supposed to use one-inch margins all around, or are the presets OK? You know what, I’ll just ask,” or “Oh wait, do you think it’ll be alright if our slides don’t have audio transitions? Here, I can email our professor, no worries,” seem benign, endearing even, when in reality they are textbook time wasters.

In any case, flying solo just isn’t always an option. Group projects are up there in the realm of necessary college evils, like shower shoes and the Freshman 15. Biggie might not agree, but sometimes you just have to stop, collaborate and listen.

{ 5 comments… read them below or add one }

Garrett Bergquist April 9, 2010 at 7:31 pm

That just about sums up every group project I’ve ever done. Reminds me of a line from The Teeth of the Tiger: “The chance of an operation being blown is proportional to the square of the number of people involved.”

Megan April 11, 2010 at 4:38 pm

Pretty sure we’re in the same category here, Kiki. :)

But P.S. – What’s wrong with dressing like a small-town high school senior. :’(

Megan April 11, 2010 at 4:38 pm

That last . was totally supposed to be a ?

Kiki April 12, 2010 at 11:17 am

Megan, absolutely nothing is wrong with dressing like a small town high school senior! And just for the record, I’ve been creeping on your chapter attire these past few Mondays, and you are clearly a fashion graduate.

Michelle Ward April 12, 2010 at 2:50 pm

I must agree with Kiki. Megan, you are quite the fasionista….definitely not a small-town-girl-dresser. :)

And Kiki, I literally laughed out loud when I read this column. I can COMPLETELY relate. Though I will say that my group project members this semester have been quite above average.

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