A Real Teacher

Do you remember that class that you took in high school that you VOWED you would never take again? The class that had the most homework, the degrading teacher that hated everything you did and the people that always had the better answer.

Guess where I spent the last four hours? Sitting in the class I vowed I would never take again and hating myself even more. Literature Thinking and Criticism and trust me, it isn’t as fun as it looks. The teacher, one of the most stereotypical professors I have seen on campus, comes in five-minutes late. He slams his black briefcase down, takes off his tweed (ew) jacket and tells us to get out a notebook and a writing utensil. Does this guy know he works at a college that uses computers for everything?

He starts his lecture at a breath-taking speed complete with big words none of us know how to spell. He takes a breath, sips on his water and continues his lecture from hell. We were to read the first half of Uncle Toms Cabin complete with reader’s notes. “Do not use sparknotes. Trust me I will know and I will deduct points from your grade.”

Wow, a real teacher.

If anyone has read or tried to read UTC, they know that the book is long. About six hundred pages too long. I’m not saying that the book is hard to read or understand (Shakespeare, Jane Austen) its just, How am I supposed to read half a book in three days?

“I was a trained English Literature major. I can read fifty words a second. I could be finished with this book by the time we leave here.”

And that’s good for you but what about the rest of us who AREN'T trained in English Literature.

Before long, we got onto the topic of marriage. I’m not sure who started it, why it was started or why were even talking about it, I just know that it started and somehow got related to gay marriage.

“How do you feel about gays getting married?”

“Marriage, in my views, is between a man and a woman. That’s it,” the professor tells us.

There I was, sitting in the first row, praying he doesn’t ask for my opinion. I could feel my other classmates’ eyes on me. And for the first time, in a long time,  I felt like I was being attacked. I was sweating bullets, like I was re-retaking my driving test. 

“I’m indifferent to it. If they want to get married, let them,” smoke answered. The truth was, I felt the same way as Smoke.

“I wonder how the reception would be?”

As my classmates talked about partying and the teacher stepped outside for a Diet Coke, I knew I would be safe from being asked awkward questions from my Republican professor. Until the topic of children.

And I finished the first half of UTC. With the help of sparknotes.