Morning Lecture Number Eight Billion And Ninety Six

By sprayhawk Tuesday October 27, 2009

They wonder why we aren’t listening. And then they stand up there and put up their Powerpoints. You know, the mega slideshows from Hell with paragraphs of dictionary terms and then confusions of dictionary terms that have been crammed into the academic subset of choice. And they stand up there with their hands on their hips with pleated slacks and sweaters or pantsuits and scarves and crafty jewelry all shiny and mom like from the arts and crafts fair last year.

And they point at the Powerpoints and they say, “This is important,” or “Take note of this.” So I look up from my crossword or text message or daydream all ready to learn something pertinent. Something pertinent like how to spot a liar or how to not get shot down or if a tiger could kill a lion if it really came down to it. But instead it’s just the dictionary term of what a “group” is. And my brain swirls liquidy icky icky down the drain and I wonder if they know I’m not a child anymore but I can’t bother to ask them right now because I am so fucking close to finishing the Wednesday Five Star Hard Sudoku that it hurts down there in my pelvis like a sexual craving.

So I sleep in class and get woken up by an IN CLASS ACTIVITY that isn’t really for learning but to punish those who decided to stay home in their warm beds and not learn nothing. Because they have PhD’s in point tallying.

IN CLASS ACTIVITY, like a tornado siren. IN CLASS ACTIVITY!

All of a sudden three hundred young and fertile minds get out papers and poise pens and they are ready to do something amazing. And then they ask us to list how many pairs of shoes we have and our favorite flavor of ice cream. So I do it because it’s easy and then I just fall back asleep.

Just as long as I get my A’s, I think as I fall asleep, drooling all over my hand.

But then somewhere back in the part of my mind that still works, the part that hasn’t been beaten into submission by Powerpoint slides, I realize I’ve been fucked. I jolt awake, suddenly aware that I didn’t come here because I was told to come here. I didn’t come here because I wanted a steady stream of first letters and some great point oh.

I came here to think.

So I wake up and cry, “Indoctrinators! Leaders of the KU Indoctrination! Why do you ram these terms and ask us to memorize top down top down? The top seven methods to capture audience attention? It’s not working! YOU haven’t captured audience attention all semester, or possibly in your entire teaching career! You cannot force us to listen! It isn’t our fault. It’s yours! You are dull! You indoctrinate! Beware the feelings of power that surge through your narrow marrows as you administer the pop quiz. We will no longer sleep when you wake up and teach.”

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