kill me.

“Okay! I’m talking and you’re talking… hmm…” says the teacher in the front of the room.
Is it me talking to my elementary school students you wonder?
Nope.
It’s my college professor in my graduate level $990.00 course.
(Well at least she didn’t “SHHH!” us like the 19-year-old sophomore bitch in the front row did last week.)
“I’m talking and you’re talking…” I’ll take that. I will let you talk. In fact, my clever little self will let you talk all nite long. And when you are anxiously waiting for a response during that awkward silence after you ask a question too hard for the undergraduate students to answer… I’ll still just be sitting quietly in the back row. Not talking while you are talking.
I am a teacher… That will teach you the lesson of telling me not to talk.
So we wait.
She asks a question. It’s painful. The silence is painful… not the question. No one answers the question. The “obnoxious grad students in the back” (as we have been labeled) decide we will let the others do the answering tonite. And so we all wait together.
I can’t help but smirk a little when the general look on the kids around the room is confusion, and I get a little nudge and giggle from my peer sitting next to me.
Maybe I should set this situation up a little better in your mind. Let me tell you about the reasons that we are “talking in class.” WE ARE BORED!!!
Is it right to be back in the back row passing judgment about comments being made?* No, it’s not right. But really, I don’t need to spend two hours talking about the fucking AEA or taking personality tests torn out of some out-of-date Seventeen magazine!
I am not trying to be rude, (there are many things that I am that I shouldn’t be… judgmental, loud, overwhelming, etc. but I don’t intentionally try to be rude), about being in a classroom environment with 19-year-old sophomores but follow me here —
Think back to your 19-year-old mind. What were your experiences? What was your development in terms of your career and work ethic?
Here is the news… we are not on the same page!! There is nothing wrong with that, but please, somebody at the damn college, please acknowledge that we are not in the same place. And therefore, should probably not be in the same class. Start thinking that one through please, Drake University.
(Please know that I do not mean being in a room with undergraduate students is a bad thing. There are aspects that we can all continue to learn from one another. But, when the majority of these students have had no hands on classroom experiences, it makes the learning environment naturally fall into two different playing fields. So, it is not the amount of education that I am talking about when I say “undergraduate,” I am more referring to the amount of experience among the different groups. This is something I can admit a difference of myself in as well. I naturally did not know nearly as much about being the classroom when I was a sophomore at Cornell as I do know. From actually having been in the classroom.)
And while we are on the “undergraduate vs. graduate” thing… I am not sure if this is a Drake thing, or if this happened at Cornell also and I just didn’t realize it (being of a more immature, inexperienced mindset), but this course is filled with lemmings. People, please! It is okay for you to have a different idea than what the professor has and you sure can express it! In fact, that makes the course much more interesting! Honestly, throw me a bone here, dammit.
It’s bad.
I know what I am going to say next might sound lame. But I really like learning. And I do really enjoy being in class to see what I can gain from it. I am not one of those people who just take the class to take it, I really do like to participate in discussions, debate, and hear other people’s experiences and perspectives. (The complete psychology of a teacher will come at a later date!) It is really hard for me to sit in a class and realize that I am not gaining anything from what I am being exposed to.
All of this, and more, is why Wednesday evenings have just become a horrible, daunting task for me each week.

* I hate to go back to the guy who loves the “happy kids with Down’s Syndrome,” but HE KILLS ME! Get out of the fucking profession! You can not relate every special education incident to your high school senior year football experience. And tonite I learned that you most certainly can not relate to a child with disabilities needing help because you needed help pitching on the sophomore high school baseball team! Are you sure that a job at Kum and Go isn’t calling you out?

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