Hm. I don't FEEL like a College Student yet...

...although the financial aid debt load I just incurred assures me I am. But while I don't feel like a college student, I sure as hell feel smarter than I did 3 days ago! Sadly, that’s not because I learned a staggering amount of information this week, but because compared to the kids surrounding me in my first two classes, (and the first two instructors I met), I'm a flippin' GENIUS! I have never seen so much apathy and pathetic disinterest so densely concentrated in one room since.....well, since the last time I got naked in front of a date...but that's a story for another day.

Just 4 days shy of my 45th birthday, I embarked on my collegiate journey this week. I've sooo been looking forward to this, all summer long. I enrolled last April, made plans, asked advice, purchased books, even rearranged my home to create a quiet study nook...I hungered for learning, and expanding my mind. I had visions of raging debates over WEIGHTY AND IMPORTANT ISSUES! I yearned for wild-eyed professors, thumping fists against blackboards, frothing at the mouth, shouting heretofore undiscovered truths for my eager mind to absorb. These visions inspired me to forge ahead despite great trepidation over my cripplingly advance age. Would my age-addled brain be able to grasp new concepts? Would I fit in with the cool kids? Would the chairs be big enough for my fat ass? All grave concerns, but the fire of my desire for higher learning could not be doused! Damn the Torpedoes, Full Speed Ahead!

So much energy wasted worrying and wondering and imagining...all for naught. If it weren't so pathetic it would be funny.

Yesterday evening, I walked into the first class of my shiny new college career. I actually had butterflies in my stomach. I knew there would be many young people, but I dared to hope I wouldn't be the OLDEST person there. Not only was I the oldest student, I was also older than the instructor. (I’m betting the ink on her birth certificate isn’t even dry yet, never mind the ink on her degree!)

Despite my fervor, even I knew this course, entitled “Creating College Success”, was a gimme. Just a revenue stream for the institution. I suppose I can’t fault them for that. But still, I imagined eager and bright individuals ready to give discourse and to opine…instead there were colored folders and Crayola markers. Seriously. And just in case you were wondering, apparently the key to success in college is journaling. Huh! WHO KNEW?!

There was a self-assessment test, comprised of 64 statements to which we assigned a numeric value from 0 to 10 to indicate how strongly we agreed or disagreed. This was designed to help us discover our strengths and weaknesses. Notice I said “self” assessment. One kid leaned over to another and said, “Dude, I’m copying off of you!”. I guess he didn’t like his own assessment! How in the hell do you copy someone else on a self assessment? Please! Afterwards, we were to add up our scores by adding up the numbers in groups of 4. One kid actually pulled out his calculator because it was just too difficult. I SHIT YOU NOT! Then the instructor gave us our homework for next week. We were to read pages 18 to 21 in the textbook. Mind you, I said pages 18 to 21, not chapters, pages. I heard a kid behind me say, “Whoa! Dude!” I spun around expecting Spicoli from Fast Times at Ridgemont High! I thought he was joking! He was not. He was indignant. I’m thinking “DUDE! It’s FOUR FREAKIN’ PAGES and you have 7 DAYS TO GET IT DONE!!” I came home last night utterly disappointed, devastated and bereft of dreams, clinging desperately to a small dying ember of hope. Hope that tonight’s class, a REAL college course - Sociology101 - would redeem and restore. Alas ‘twas not to be.

Tonight, in Sociology, we went over the syllabus, and when finished the instructor asked US if we thought we should we stay or go home! I thought perhaps he might be conducting a Social Experiment, after all this was Sociology. At the very least a trick question to separate the slackers from the studious, to see who’d say stay and who’d say go. One girl said, “I vote ‘GO’ after I ask a question”. She asked her question, he answered and then SENT US HOME. I nearly fainted from the massive blood loss as the color drained from my face. My eager anticipation turned to slack-jawed horror when I realized he was serious. “I’VE BEEN ROBBED”, my mind screamed! “WHERE’S MY DEBATING? WHERE’S MY SOAKING UP KNOWLEDGE? WHERE’S MY GODDAMN BOOK-LARNIN’!!!! AAAARGH!”

What a sad state of affairs. Have the instructors sucked up apathy by osmosis? Did they ever give a crap at all, or was the caring beat out of them by the endless, shuffling, staring horde of non-responsive, catatonic teenagers who rotate through these classes, willing to do just enough to get a passing grade. Not necessarily there to learn, just to get a passing grade. In both classes, while reviewing the syllabus, more than one student asked questions like: “When you say paragraph, how many sentences do you require?” “If I journal for extra credit, how many lines do I need to write every day? Will three lines do? Is that three LINES or three SENTENCES?” God save us, these Twittering zombies are going to be our doctors, our teachers, our politicians. I’m grateful I’m half in my grave already, because I am afraid for our future.

I am, however, thrilled about all of the blog content I shall amass during the next four years. This is going to rock entirely. I thought I’d stick out like a (fat) sore thumb because of my age, but it looks like I’m going to stick out because I’m not afraid of SENTENCES. Woot!