All Coked Up

When I first started working at a large beverage company, my boss made sure to impress upon me how finishing university would benefit me. I already knew this; and I know that it could benefit them as well. Getting that “SMART” rubber stamp on your forehead, or a diploma, same thing, does amount to something, both tangible and not. Still, it was nice to hear something supportive about my studies, as opposed to the usual “Why the hell are you doing that?”

A reluctant university student, I’d settled on an English major, almost by default. Soon my lack of faith in the mass education system had come to outweigh the positives I was aware existed. Courses were dumbed down to the lowest common denominator. A prof who reminisced about hanging out in cafes with his students in Germany and France was unavailable when a dumbass TA accused me of plagiarism. The paper eventually got cleared, and it got an A, but I was turned off.

My, admittedly juvenile, reaction was, fuck them, I don’t need them. Paying good money to a school with a billion dollar nest-egg and having my 1 polite email, my 1 polite phone message, and my repeated office visits, during posted prof’s availability hours, ignored or met with the absence of said prof didn’t appeal to me. I didn’t want any immediate answer, I just wanted an explanation of the process, to know where I stood at that moment. That wasn’t possible, I just got the runaround… check with this faculty dept., no speak with that academic advisor, no the academic advisor at the college which hosts the faculty. And so on. My question was simple, but it was like no one was allowed to tell me anything useful. I never heard back from the prof or the TA, ever; and the final exam for that course was written before my final paper had been reviewed, cleared of plagiarism, and graded. Ah yes, the proper reward for good work is unnecessary stress going into finals.

I was also turned off by the industrial treatment of the material we were studying. Every major reading was followed by a crappy essay requirement. Though they differed in content, each essay boiled down to the same thing. Attempts at being creative or arguing points not already raised by the instructors were mostly met by indifference, or suspicion, or smug disapproval. It felt less like education and more like indoctrination.

So, I stopped going.

Now, after three years off, I’m going back. Some indoctrination could be useful. I knew I’d eventually go back, for practical reasons, if nothing else. Having that man say “Stay in school,” and pause, and look up at me from his paperwork and say “I want you to make sure you stay in school” made something click. When I told him my major, he didn’t say “What, you wanna be a teacher?” (hell no), or “There’s no money in that” – he said “That’s interesting. It could give you a pretty wide base for the future.” Again, I already knew this, but having a successful executive say it, rather than my (also successful) family & relatives, or me to myself, provided the impetus to act.

If you’re ever someone’s boss, they should already respect you. Keep and grow that respect by taking interest in their future. And if you’re a prof, do your fucking job. It doesn’t matter how many students you have, you’re compensated handsomely for what you do. Make an effort.

And if you’re a student, get your mind right and geddat money, mayne.