Greetings From The Other Side of The Classroom

A summer that seems to have gone by too quickly calls for the most dreaded, yet arguably and paradoxically so, most self-fulfilling rite of passage: choosing your college classes.

After consulting your advisor, your peers, and Ratemyprofessor.com, you — knight of education and higher learning — draw blood from your palm and sign your life unto your new registered classes.

It’s going to be a fantastic fall term.

First day of class and life seems to be heading in the right direction; heck, you even jogged

this morning. Your internal utopia is unfortunately destroyed as you receive your course syllabus for Speech and shockingly discover that you’re going to do more than speaking about speaking. Then disappointment and melancholy fill your spirit as your professor so rudely affirms that you will need the $300 textbook for CHM1045. You lose all hope in humanity because you never thought the little red chili pepper on the wesite would ever betray you.

Throughout all this suffering, what are professors up to?

Lamentably, it’s uncommon for students to step into their professors’ shoes, and I had to learn this the hard way while teaching French to students 6 to 24 years old this past summer. My Achilles heel was that I unconsciously assumed that everyone would fall in love with the

language as I had. I, in my innocuous reveries, naively hoped for an energetic class filled with

hard-working future polyglots. However, teaching turned out to be one of the most taxing experiences of my life.

I remember being so enthused to present to my students the ocean of pulchritude that is the French language, and be able to swim and dive with them through the world of opportunities that may open up for them with its fluent use.

I also remember a day where I was going to explain the subtle differences between the infinitives savoir and connaître (to know) when I noticed a student doing anything but paying attention. My disappointment and perceived betrayal became strong, and I remember wanting to guillotine his dormant head as the French did to Marie-Antoinette.

We must realize the privilege that has been bestowed upon us in being able to actually attend college classes and be in the presence of educators. Forget complaining about incomprehensibly costly textbooks and oddly in-depth courses. Instead, revel in the dream shared by prospective students worldwide who would do anything to contribute to their future.