The university is not the safe space for complaint that it once was. Negativity, even ambivalence, is frowned on. Nothing less than complete enthusiasm will satisfy: you must at all times be thrilled to announce, excited to be part of, delighted to share. In this context, marking – which at most universities involves uploading long lists of numbers to creaking online portals that crash with abandon – is one of the few remaining repositories for an acceptable ennui, an apolitical ire. It unites the divided: everyone hates marking.
Marking scripts is not unlike being asked by a doctor to rate the pain you are experiencing on a scale of one to ten, except that marks are doled out in roughly inverse proportion to the amount of pain caused to you by a student’s work.