So, I can’t take “White Studies” any longer. And I was looking so forward to it too. Damn school board, oh well, at least I have a good shot at some other important classes such as “Art in Elementary School,” where I can finally figure out why the Hell my first grade teacher made me draw my friggin’ shoe.
Or I could take “Public Speaking.” Hmmm … sounds harmless, except for the fact that it’s an online course. Here is a good message to our parents. “Hey, Mom, I learned how to type up a speech and send it through e-mail and then somebody probably reads it out loud and then I write another e-mail saying my conclusion, which, of course, will restate my thesis. Oh, I love speaking in public!”
Maybe I could choose this one class under Counseling called, “Rehab.” Uh, maybe not. I think I would be better off selecting “Intro to Rehab” as a prerequisite kind of thing.
You know, I have always been told that I have a fascinating imagination. Fascinating as in terrible, but, anyhow, I think that “Historic Imagination” would be right up my alley. This is all I need, rather than segregating every race with different History classes, we instead can choose a class where we make up what actually happens!
And now to the end of my day, it’s time for physical education. I can either choose between “Fly Fishing” and the “Scuba Lab.” Oh, well this sounds all wonderful and exciting until a few people in the class realize that, other than rain, we have no visible water in all of Oregon. No water equals no fish. No water equals no scuba. Damn, I knew I should have taken a math class.
Am I the only one who can see the complete downfall and embarrassing classes that are offered here at PSU? I know I am just a stinky freshman, but I took better classes in junior high, you know, called “Homeroom.”
I was really looking forward to college as a senior in high school. I couldn’t wait to get some really fun classes and contort my mind in all sorts of illegal ways, but, when I discovered a thing called money, my hopes of dreams and fun disappeared a long with my intelligence and self-esteem. So, I am stuck here, needing college, spending money and going to classes where I learn about Elvis.
“Hey, isn’t this a speech class.”
“Yes it is. Elvis spoke.”
My Mom and Dad must be so proud of me. Me and my classes. I actually, for the first time in my life, love going to school. I don’t know if it is the stench of vomit in Lincoln Center, the feel of golf-ball sized hail going into my temples as I run to a MAX stop or the sweet sounds of a hippie snoring away as he kicks over a chair. Taking everything into consideration, I love going to school here.
But I miss my actual classes. And when I heard about this whole “White Studies” debacle, I immediately knew I wasn’t spending my money wisely. Although I think the idea of having a “White Studies” class is, for lack of a more offensive word, retarded, I still think it would be more functional than learning the “History of Rock and Roll.”
College costs a lot of money. A lot of money I don’t have. A lot of money most students don’t have. But when so many of the classes that we have to choose from are purely there for either fun or entertainment, I am not sure if our money is being well spent.
I would hate to think when I finally get outta here and head for an actual job, that while I am being interviewed, the head honcho of some big company comes across my resume and starts asking questions.
“Oh, it looks here like you graduated with top honors. Good. Perfect grade point average – also good. But, it says here you took an imaginary history class and learned how to fly fish. How do you explain that?”