Tuesday, April 10, 2007

We Really Expected To Be Next

Dear Fellow Students:

I realize that you have a hard life, what with your parents footing the bill to put you up for a college degree then refusing to send you more cash when your beer fund runs low, but I must take issue with a few aspects of our daily interactions with one another.

First, I am a non-traditional student. Get over it. I chose to give birth to three beautiful, healthy children. This does not give you the right to repeatedly insinuate that I do not belong in an academic setting due to my role as a mother. It also does not make me a freak of nature for you to interrogate mercilessly about the daily workings of my household and marriage. You may inquire as to the health and well-being of my children, and I will be happy to entertain you with a short anecdote about my daughter repeating the "f-bomb" after one of your less that brilliant classmates stepped directly in front of my vehicle without looking, however, if you would really like to know more about sexuality post-pregnancy please visit the library and locate a book on the subject as I am not inclined to participate in a lengthy discourse about the inner workings of my bedroom affairs with you.

On a more specific note, I urge you to find some semblance of collective intelligence since it has become obvious that you are incapable of mustering any individual intelligence. To the music major in last semester's literature class: how do you not recognize the name "Carnegie Hall" when it is presented in the text? Furthermore, how do you get to senior classification in the music program and not know the location or function of Carnegie Hall? My only consolation in this situation is that you have selected a course of study which will require some talent and ingenuity on your part in order for you to succeed.

To the fashion major who lurks around the studios after hours: it is admirable that you have found the courage to pursue this particular course of study after donning your very best ripped (and stained) thrift store t-shirt, grubby jeans and moldy tennis shoes, however, I must suggest to you that your bravado may not be serving you well when it compels you to march into the painting studio and announce to those standing before their canvases that they are not true artists since they are not operating sewing machines.

To the ego obscuring the student seated next to me in Life Drawing: you are considerably and fantastically talented. Your rendering of anime characters and fantasy landscapes are breath-taking, but this is "life" drawing. Please stop antagonizing the professor with pencil sketches of Snoopy on top of the stack of boxes we are supposed to be rendering in charcoal. This course is not beneath you. It is part of the classical, apprenticeship style program you willingly signed up for. Stop being a dick.

Also, to the Adjunct-of-the-Month: You must have hit paydirt when the art department became short-handed and desperate. I've seen your work, and, no, your shit-eating grin does not make it better or clever. I don't care if you're Mapplethorpe reincarnated you cannot take underexposed, poorly processed, poorly composed, barely intelligible photographs, frame them and call them art. I'm sorry. The label "art" allows quite a bit of latitude, but it still maintains some standards.

And finally, to Professor in Black: You're a taskmaster and a half. Are you aware of that? Are you also aware that you are a compete asshole to your students? That said, are you also aware that despite these complaints you are the best teacher I've ever encountered? Somewhere along the way you managed to get past my thick skull with your informative and entertaining insanity. You have earned my undying respect, admiration and eternal recommendation to other students. Thank you.