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For those of you that don't know, before this semester I got a letter stating that I was on academic dismissal. I'm not particularly embarrassed or ashamed of this anymore; oh, I was at first, but if I didn't make mistakes, I wouldn't learn how to fix them. Also it was because I had no idea what I was going to do with my life, but I thought I wanted to do something with art, so I didn't see much point in going to school (and I stopped going to classes for a while because I was sad, but that's a story for another time. Or maybe it isn't).
But I took the appropriate actions-- I wrote a letter for the dean, I got approval from a counselor to come back, and I went to see Dr. Daiek. Not to mention I had a shiny new career goal I wanted to pursue, and I wanted to get on that as soon as I could. Everything was set for my fall classes, including the mandatory learning skills course.
I didn't really mind having to take a learning skills course. I figured it would help me out, since obviously I had issues with studying, and I heard part of the class dealt with planning out your major and transfer guide. I was actually kind of excited about it.
The class met once a week, for an hour, and was "taught" (and I use that word loosely) by a teacher I will henceforth refer to as Professor I. Care. There were about fifteen other people in this class, and they had all been doing poorly in their classes for a myriad of reasons, almost none of them being "they're stupid".
The first day I was pretty optimistic. She handed out a lot of worksheets that we were asked not to hand in. We drew up a list of expectations for ourselves, our families, and our teachers, and discussed them. A lot of people (myself included) had a problem with teachers not really caring about their students or getting to know them, or making exceptions when there were extenuating circumstances. Professor I. Care sympathized with us, saying that she knew how that was and she had vowed she wouldn't be the same. She played a lot of videos from motivational speakers, and a Nike commercial. I left feeling like I was finally getting something done.
The next few weeks were a little different. Professor I. Care was still understanding and sympathetic, but in that patronizing, shaming way that made us feel like we were stupid even though she was telling us we weren't.
Two weeks ago, my growing disinterest turned to complete disdain. The theme of the day was "paradigm shifts". She explained to us that none of us were making our own decisions; that the decisions we made were really other people's decisions that we thought we were making for ourselves. We were all robots, programmed by those around us to make decisions we would never make if we really thought about it. Apparently. But it was okay, because we didn't know better, and she was now going to teach us how to make our own decisions.
This was a mandatory class. I need to stress that. We HAD TO TAKE THIS CLASS in order to get a grade and be off academic dismissal.
Naturally, having made a fair amount of big decisions that had nothing to do with anyone else, this pissed me off. She passed around a worksheet on the subject, and the questions (and my answers) went as follows.
Consider a BIG DECISION you have made recently.
Giving up my son for adoption
What are 2 factors you considered when you made this decision?
Financial stability/my own fitness as a parent
Now THINK. What assumptions about YOURSELF may have played a part in your decision?
That I wouldn't have gone back to school or gotten a career if I'd kept him, and wouldn't have been able to support him/give him a good life
Now THINK AGAIN. Is there SOMEONE or SOMETHING subconsciously taking part in your decision-making?
Uh, no
In other words, now that you REALLY THINK about it, who or what else influenced this decision?
Nothing, unless you count "money"
Is this really your OWN decision, now that you REALLY THINK about it?
YES IT WAS ENTIRELY MY DECISION YOU HACK
At this point I didn't really have many nice things to say about the class. But still, I thought maybe she was just used to these teaching methods working on everybody else, or something. I wasn't happy about it, but I didn't really hold it against her personally.
The next week I went back, and a counselor made appointments with everyone in our class to get them set up with two-year plans and transfer and career guides. After we made our counseling appointment, we had to make an appointment with Professor I. Care. Due to a random system that involved everyone jumping in front of me and another girl, I was the last person to make an appointment.
Professor I. Care looked up at me like she'd never seen me before.
Her: "What's your name again?"
Me: "Kelli Renas."
Her: "Romnas?"
Me: "RENAS. R-E-N-A-S."
Her: (shaking her head) "Oh wow, I don't know why I didn't know that. Okay, when did you want to have your appointment?"
Me: "Do you have anything on a Monday?"
Her: "Sure. What time are your classes?"
Me: "I don't have any classes on Monday. That's why I--"
Her: "Well that's STUPID. What days are your classes, we'll do it then."
Me: (a little annoyed, because I don't want to have an appointment on a day when I have classes, also because I just listened to her fill up every possible Tuesday and Thursday time) "Tuesday and Thursday, 8-10 AM and 3:30-5 PM."
Her: (writes down "3:30" in her book) "Now what was your name again?"
Me: (more than a little annoyed) "I have CLASS at 3:30."
Her: (incredulous) "Well I can't possibly do anything before that, I teach until 3:30."
I MAY ACTUALLY BE HAVING AN ANEURYSMMe: (baffled) "I KNOW, THAT'S WHY I SAID MONDAY."
Her: "Okay, we'll do Monday. How's 9:30?"
I took my slip and left.
So today at 9:30, armed with my transcripts, two transfer guides, a full plan for the next year (after which I'd have my associates'), and the knowledge that this was going to be a fully annoying experience, I went to my appointment with Professor I. Care.
When I knocked on the door, she turned around and pointed at the folder in my hand. "What's that?"
"It's all the stuff you told us to bring," I said.
"I didn't tell you to bring anything." Then a light went on in her head. "OH! You're my 9:30 appointment! Oh my God, it's so early for me. Okay, go sign in at the front desk."
After being pointed to three different front desks, I finally managed to sign in, and when I got back, she was working on an email. "We still have one minute before our appointment technically starts, so just let me finish this," she said.
I stayed quiet, thinking, You told me to show up 15 minutes early. . .
She finished her email (at 9:32) and grabbed my folder to look through the things I'd brought.
Her: "So you didn't bring a signed registration form?"
Me: (blinks) "A what?"
Her: "A signed registration form. Did you even read this?"
She took out the list of things to bring, which I'd marked up with a red pen to notate what I had, and tapped "signed registration form", at the bottom and in a different area than the list. I shook my head, almost certain that it wasn't on the list the night before.
Her: "Now you have to go back over to the counseling office. Well, that's fine. We have to meet again in a little while anyway." (looks over my transfer guides to WSU College of Liberal Arts and Sciences) "You know a Gen Ed degree won't get you a job, right?"
Me: "Excuse me?"
Her: "No one anywhere is going to hire you with a Gen Ed degree. Did your counselor not tell you that?"
Me: (stab of annoyance) "I'm not going there to get a Gen Ed degree. We printed that one off because they don't have a pre-law undergrad program."
Her: "Oh! I notice you only got a 2.0 in English 101. . . " (makes sympathetic face) "Have some trouble with the writing? We can put you in a remedial class, if you need the help. WSU only accepts people with perfect writing, which (in a commiserating tone) I think is just terrible, but if you need the help--"
Me: "My writing is fine, actually. I skipped a bunch of classes. I got A's on everything I handed in."
Her: "Oh. Hmm. . . I notice you're taking kind of a heavy course load this semester."
Me: "Not really. Just Biology and English 2."
Her: "Biology, that's a lot of memorizing stuff. Is that okay for you? Are you having any trouble with that?"
Me: "No, I'm not."
Her: "Have you had any tests yet?"
Me: "Yes. We've had one. I got an A on it. I have an A in this class."
Her: "Oh. Huh. What about Math 113? I see you have that this semester."
Me: "I dropped it."
Her: (makes understanding face) "Was it too hard? Do we need to maybe drop you down to Math 053 to bump up that comprehension?"
Me: (not even bothering to keep the irritation out of my voice anymore) "No, I can comprehend it just fine. It was an 8-10 PM class and I was worried I'd skip."
Her: (nodding) "8-10 AM? Yeah, I have trouble getting up that early too."
Me: "No, 8-10 PM."
Her: "You mean 8-10 AM."
Me: "NO, I mean, 8-10 PM. AT NIGHT."
Her: "Oh my gosh, who would ever schedule a class at 10 PM? I couldn't learn anything, my brain is fried by then."
She grinned. I was not having any of it.
She scheduled another appointment for the end of October ("What's your name again? Romnas?" "RENAS.") and told me I needed to have my signed registration guide with me then, because apparently I didn't actually need it today, and I followed her out to the lobby so she could make copies of all my paperwork.
"You know, it's crazy," she said as she put my transcripts through the copier, "you're really one of the most prepared students I've ever had. I don't think anyone has ever had a course of action this thought out!" She handed me back all my paperwork."See you on the 31st!"
I made this face:
The face of someone who isn't harboring a secret burning desire to punch something.I was right.
