By Dana Mate
Collegiate Staff Writer
Yes, I am a cornball.
When I come to class I am expecting to learn and participate in my education.
I am usually the annoying girl involved in every discussion, dissecting every assignment, and even on days I want to sit home and zone out in front of the TV, I am still present and attentive in class.
I want to leave class ablaze from our discussion and full of knowledge from our lecture. I am one of those freaks who likes school.
That being said, I must concede I don’t necessarily enjoy my classes this semester.
My Spanish class is — well a Spanish class, no real expectations there.
However, I suppose I came into this semester with delusions of grandeur, my literature class would be so immersed in Thoreau that we would stay after for an hour because no one cared that class was over.
My sociology class would be so passionate about current events that we would lead a campus wide protest to motivate change.
We would evoke a response from the nation, inspire a generation to participate in social reform.
Instead, in my literature class I am copying lines from our textbook, and we talk about MLA for entire class periods.
In my sociology class my professor raves about the demise of marriage due in part to the promiscuity of women, or the highly unnatural practice of homosexuality.
Forgive me for feeling slightly let down by my instructors.
They make me feel like they are teaching with the last squeeze of toothpaste.
You know what it’s like, squeezing the last smidgen from the tube hoping you can get enough for one last brush.
I don’t expect to be taught by people with my exact views, or who know my focal point in the assigned readings.
However, I do expect to be taught, and encouraged in my quest for higher learning. To a lesser degree I want to be inspired, and whether our opinions differ or not, I hope encouraged to participate in class.
I didn’t expect the quest for inspiration to find root in my Spanish class. We don’t discuss the culture, explore the deeper meaning of the language, but we learn vocabulary.
My instructor, who shall remain nameless, entices our class to learn.
He makes our class interesting, conjugating verbs and all. He does it by showing up to every class with passion on his sleeve to impart to our 9 a.m. class.
Whether it’s sociology, literature, or Spanish I wish every professor would teach with that drive to inspire.
Ultimately, I pose this question to the instructors of GRCC, are you fresh out of inspiration or are you an endless tube of toothpaste?