I‘m not one of those kids who was really studious in high school or anything. I don’t say that because slacking is cool (apathy and I went out of style when Obama told us that yes, we could). I say it because every day my exceptionally large-headed French teacher would greet the class with “Bonjour mes amies! Did everyone do her homework?” and after a chorus of “oui” she would say, “And you, Char-lot? Did you get to it?” On the days when I had, she would clap her hands and shout “Bravo!” or even, “Super cool!” and I would take a bow.
High school habits — reading Sparknotes (the synopses, never chapter summaries), walking to the nearby golf course instead of math class to “just chill for once, you know?” — have translated into a non-conventional approach to college coursework. Yesterday this became more obvious than ever, when I e-mailed my Introduction to Psychology professor to tell him or her (how should I know?) that I switched in extraordinarily late, and was unable to attend the first two post-add/drop lectures (true stories). “I’ve gotten caught up on the reading and reviewed the syllabus, so I feel comfortable with the material,” I wrote (not true stories). When the professor’s response e-mail began with “For Thursday’s midterm…,” I wondered if maybe I had gone too far.
But then, what is the add/drop period if not a chance to begin the academic year a few weeks late, or drop a Friday recitation that, due to dehydration, you are simply unable to attend and then re-add the very same one that night? What is a large lecture in which you may or may not be the only upperclassman if not an old fashioned “free period?" I was shaken to the core.
As I sit writing this, missing my history class for the fourth time in a row and scrolling through the Psych roster on BlackBoard in search of a study buddy, I have come to my senses. If I pull this off and get an A, then bravo and super cool and God help me to get myself to lecture ever again.
