I thought I was going to graduate in May. Sure, that meant 18 credits this semester, but I was prepared to buckle down and get the hell out. Then I went to see a dean.
\Looks like you need 19 credits,"" he said.
Letters and Science students beware: P.E. classes do not count towards your 120 credits. Why? Because this university wants you to be rich and out of shape, not healthy and happy. Healthy, happy people don't necessarily donate money to their alma mater. Miserable, out of shape, rich people donate by the boatload.
Dissatisfied with your life? On track for an early death? Donate funds for a new dorm, or a set up an endowment to ensure the longevity of a campus landmark. At least your name will live on.
""Did your yoga class help you in your academic career?"" the dean asked.
I answered that it had.
""Maybe it helped you manage your stress!"" he joked. This is the level of humor lurking in the bowels of Bascom Hall.
It did. It helped me maintain mental balance in face of worthless classes.
Academia is a land shrouded in dense fog. Driving through this land are the worthless classes. They're fluorescent ice-cream trucks with huge sirens, day-glo ox-shaped balloons and nude, attractive people. As you might imagine, these classes garner great attention. They are high profile, popular, and, on the surface, engaging. Their secret cave dwelling and freaky-freak lovepad (read: department) has a great deal of funding behind it. But, with continued exposure, their overarching effect is that of too much ice cream. You take the final, walk away, and drink warm tap water to toast a letdown semester.
The classes of worth aren't gaudy. It often requires some looking to find them. As mentioned, the psychedelic ice-creamers have a lot of funding, and are deeply entrenched in Academia's past. In contrast to the trucks, worthwhile classes are wagons camped in a quiet dale, with strings of candle lanterns strung to nearby trees.
When I came to college, my mom told me deciding on a major was a matter of matching frameworks. A field of study, she said, is just a way of looking at the world. Economists balance cost and benefit and social scientists study relationships. None is superior or ""right.""
Journalism is a fit for me because it's about storytelling. I enjoy creative writing classes for the same reason. And I'm getting a certificate in Folklore because it's a field grounded in the stories people tell, whether through song, craft, humor or celebration.
It's easy to get frustrated with a large university. A 400-person introductory course where grades are based exclusively on attendance and multiple-choice tests hardly feels enlightening. The esoteric nature of some classes, particularly in fields that don't really exist outside of Academia, can make you question the value of a college education. At their worst, fields of study can seem an elaborate farce to guarantee professorships.
My initial anger at the diploma delay has faded. I'm taking 17 credits, a more manageable number, and will close out my career at UW with a summer forum on the role of traditional foods in celebrations and festivals. After that I have to get a job, so please ask your parents to hire me. Stupid Bush's America.
Louie may be reached at chunkkicke@yahoo.com
