For the most part, I do not chit-chat with my fellow classmates. I like it that way. I can listen to the prof, take notes, and then leave campus without being distracted. Given that the majority of my time spent on school work is what is done IN class, not being chatty kathy keeps me on track. Put me behind the chair at the salon. . . whole different story. Maybe it is a comfort issue? A confidence issue? Who knows.
Anyway, I have exhausted myself attempting to understand some students. It's sad, to be honest, to see students that make no effort to do well. They probably think that they can't do well. Maybe their parents told them that they couldn't do well. . .I don't know. But if they don't attempt to do well, they shouldn't be in college. It's a waste of time and money. I'd rather see them finding a job doing something they enjoy (which CAN BE DONE without a college degree) instead of bothering the students in class that do actually try and learn. Furthermore, I think we should adopt the European view of taking a year or so off after high school in order to "find oneself". THEN, after you have figured out a little bit more about yourself and your interests. . . go to college somewhere and pursue that. Shoving 18 year olds into a university is ridiculous.
Story: I was sitting in class one day, taking copious notes and keeping my eye on the guy sitting next to me dead asleep. He came to class in sweatpants, a huge sweatshirt, and a winter cap trying to keep his dread locks contained. He didn't bring a bag, a pencil, or a willingness to learn. He just showed up to sleep. "why?" I wondered. There isn't even an attendance policy in this class! Why would he not just stay home to sleep?
About 10 minutes pass, the professor's tone begins to lull others to sleep. I begin to hear some extremely faint talking or mumbling. I glance to my right, nothing. I turn my ear to listen to what is going on behind me, nothing. And then. . .I look to my right and I see The Sleeper rapping to himself. He is sort of moving his body as if dancing-but isn't moving more than a centimeter. His fingers are following the beat of his rap. I'm watching him to try and determine whether he is awake or whether this was probably a symptom of being at the club late last night with the rap still echoing in your head. Needless to say, eventually he forces himself to get up at about 9:45a: 5 minutes before class ends. With a deafening yawn, he rudely interrupts the professor. Students turn around, laugh and nod their heads, and we all think. . . "yeah. . . figures".
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