September has come and gone, and students around the globe have run rigorously, and indolently, through their first days of classes. As the year begins, I have found myself flung back into the masses of monotonous madness—including the lazy bastards who still use the elevator to travel one measly floor! Seriously—does the concept of stairs still escape your grasp?
Heading back into the classroom can be tough. Not because of the onslaught of all that learning, but because the first day of any class is the most mundane experience outside of Christmas.
First, we have the syllabus—a logical and necessary instrument in any class. Certainly, a brief overview of what you are getting into, how you are graded and what to look forward to makes sense. But must we suffer through hearing an extra hour’s worth of what should be common sense? Look, we’re talking about college students here. If they haven’t figured out that cheating, answering their phone and being a bigot in class isn’t kosher, then they aren’t going to last too long here anyway.
And teachers, get with the times. Like it or not, laptops are what students are going to use. I haven’t taken a single note on paper in years. I am always dumbfounded when an instructor insists that students either don’t use laptops at all, sit up front, or get permission to use their computers. I’m a little suspicious that these teachers may have been planted by the paper industry.
I get it, though—there will always be a couple students planting crops on Farmville, chatting with their significant other or perhaps even watching something on Hulu. All I can say is, too bad for them. They snooze, they lose. Choosing not to pay attention is choosing to fail the next quiz. If you’re a teacher and you truly suspect a student of updating their Facebook status, then I suggest you choose that moment to once, and only once, reveal a very noteworthy bit of information that they will need to know for the final.
So get over it. Laptops are what we use in our modern age. If education were left up to these teachers over the span of academic history, we would still be relating information orally, and banned from writing on parchment because we might doodle and distract the other students.
And I often hear, “But it distracts other students!” Well, I don’t feel bad for those students. If flashy lights easily distract them, maybe an institution of higher learning and thinking isn’t the place for them.
Of course there are also the first-day students—you know the ones. There is such a thing as a stupid question, and they’re asking it. There are also those figuring every angle they can to poke holes in the curriculum. “But what if Banweb goes offline?” “What if my printer runs out of ink suddenly?” Deal with it. I’m sure you aren’t the first student to cross that bridge.
And honestly, what is up with meet-and-greet activities? Does anyone really care what each other’s names and favorite colors are? I’m trying to take a class—an endeavor in academics—not join a commune or a group counseling session. We could get started on our studies, but instead we’re putting introverts nervously on the spot, and extroverts annoyingly on the stage, trying to discover why we’re all unique.
This all inevitably leads to any number of unique students relating their distinctive experiences traveling in Europe or Asia, etc. I’m going to let you all in on something. A college student backpacking overseas isn’t unique—it’s cliché and probably drunkenly contributes to why other countries hate Americans.
Thankfully, that’s all over now as college quarters begin. Hopefully students can now get on with what they are racking up immense amounts of debt for—learning.