I am bored out of my EFFING mind. So bored that I've started chewing on my own shoelaces (yes, I can do this.) So bored that I'm beginning to wonder if it is possible to completely remove my pants without using any hands and without anybody noticing. Interestingly enough, I am not in a History 111 lecture (or am I?) Nor am I watching the dance theatre performance for the third time on the Miami Channel. I'm doing something much, much worse than the aforementioned endeavors: I'm sitting in class, and it's syllabus week.
A nondescript and arrogantly intelligent professor has just handed out the course syllabus. It's printed on Miami University's finest orange paper. A student earning minimum wage probably received a near-fatal paper cut while slaving over the copy machine for hours. Still, the syllabus says some incredibly novel things on it. It tells me that I can't miss more than 2-3 classes, otherwise my grade will be docked an ungodly amount. However, if my grandmother were to suddenly die in a tragic, yet very real skateboarding accident, an exception could potentially be made. However, I would have to notify my professor immediately. His/her e-mail address is printed at the top of the page.
The syllabus also informs me that I will, of course, be taking a midterm on Green Beer Day and said midterm will count for 95 percent of my grade. Class participation will be 15 percent and my presentation (which is almost always, without question, a group PowerPoint presentation that will be composed almost entirely in the bowels of King Cafe with one group member mysteriously missing) will be an additional 10 percent. There will also be three arbitrary paper assignments that cannot be turned in late. Still, there will undeniably be a lengthy paragraph describing the professor's late policy in great detail. (Please note that this policy is almost always the same: the professor does not accept late assignments. Shocking.)
And, as always, there will undoubtedly be a day-by-day schedule of topics, assignments, and (ideally) class cancellations.
After spending approximately 35-67 seconds reviewing the syllabus, I, as a second semester senior, have a full understanding of what this class will entail. I'm also convinced that with some brief coaching, I could pass this syllabus along to my five year old cousin and he would certainly comprehend the severity of the professor's text messaging policy (this particular professor claims that he will call whomever you are texting and tell them that you have contracted a vile sexually transmitted disease).
Still, despite the uncanny ability of literate college students to read, review and understand the basic college syllabus outline, it seems that professors still find the need to spend absurd amounts of time going over the syllabus with a class. Some professors read the syllabus to you word-by-word, as though they think that perhaps you never went to elementary school and were admitted into Miami through a bizarre fluke that has something to do with Chinese investors and an enigmatic bottle of maple syrup. Some professors prefer to have the students read it out loud; some even offer syllabus quizzes on the second day of class. Some re-write important points on the board and encourage you to take notes, and some make it interactive and have you fill in some of the portions of the syllabus like Mad Libs!
No matter kind of syllabus-day-action you are lucky enough to experience, I can assure you it will be boring, pointless and patronizing. You will feel that the years you spent learning how to read have been tossed out the window like your virginity, and you will realize that your ability to understand basic instructions and concepts has been wildly overlooked. There is no hope. Syllabus week sucks.
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