When Dad and I met up for dinner last Wednesday, he took one look at me and said, “Damn, you look like a rabid raccoon. What the hell happened to you?”, to which I explained to him the whole DM situation and how I was stressing myself out over it. 

“Listen, kid.” Dad began after I finished talking, “This is one class. One shitty little class. But, it’s community college. Tuition is cheap, and college boards nationwide tend to suck at their jobs… trust me, I had a couple shitty college courses, too…There’s no shame in dropping a class. But I think you should stick with it till April, then withdraw from the class with a good idea of what to expect from that class in the future… You need the math credits, after all, but if you can master the content on your own before going to class, then you’ll get your degree and actually learn something useful, too- ‘stead of just crammin’ it all in there just to regurgitate it on the tests.”

“Wait…” I scowled, “Are ya saying that college is not actually teaching me?”

“Yup!” Dad nodded, “In an ideal world, school would actually teach you some useful shit, but that’s the modern-day education system… You’re going to college for the piece of paper saying you got your associates you can put on a resume, not to actually learn anything all that useful…”

“So… what do you think I ought to do, now?” I asked, “I mean… you’re paying for this shit and I don’t want to waste your mo-”

“Ah, don’t worry about that.” Dad interrupted me, “I’ve spent twice as much on skiing this season than I’ve spent on this semester- no offense, of course. You can take as many classes as you want- I’m just saying you can totally drop this class whenever, and I wouldn’t call it a waste, though it sounds like a complete fucking shitshow.”

“That it is…” I mumbled.

“But, if I were you,” Dad continued, “ I’d stick with it with plans to withdraw in April, just to scope things out… Use the time between now and then to learn as much as you can, do your best without runnin’ yourself ‘to the ground, get a good idea of what this course will expect from you in the future, drop out at the last minute if you’re not passin’, learn math the same way you learned how to write, and you’ll breeze right though your future math courses no matter what stupid systems they use.”

“You should still get your associate’s, but you don’t have to learn anything substantial at this point in college… Like I said, you’re really only there to get a fancy-schmancy piece of paper with your name on it you can hang up on your wall and put on a resume, so you have a better chance at getting a decent job down the line… and also to get into university, if that’s what you wanna do next. College really only matters if you’re becoming a nurse or a doctor or a lawyer. Unless you are going into a highly specialized field like that, college doesn’t actually matter than much… You’ll learn way more stuff down the line outside of college… You just need a piece of paper saying that you got through college to get a lot of jobs.”

“Hmmmm…” I growled, “I’m not sure I agree with that… But, if nothing else, it makes me feel a little better, at least.”

“Well, I’m not saying college is complete bullshit.” Dad said, “I’m just saying a lot of it is bullshit. Community college-and even university to an extent-is like highschool 2.0, ‘cept you get to choose what you wanna do when you wanna do it. Nobody’s forcin’ you to be there, Maya… Like I said a year ago, you ought to treat college like a membership to the Nature and Science museum. It’s for you and you alone, and you don’t have to memorize everything that’s thrown at you- if your classes are being taught that way, I’d drop it- that old school way doesn’t work for my brain, and doesn’t with yours either, and that’s okay…” 

“Ultimately, the grades you get and the classes you take don’t matter. What matters is that you feel like you’re getting something out of it, even if that’s simply taking the syllabus from a certain class, dropping that class, learning the content in the syllabus on your own, then coming back to get those easy credits… Doing that is perfectly okay, so long as you commit to learning something useful in a relatively timely manner that will help you down the road. Make sense?”

“Makes perfect sense.” I nodded. 

“So, don’t sweat the petty stuff, and don’t pet the sweaty stuff, a’ight?” Dad smiled. 

“Uhhh… right.” I scowled, “What the hell does ‘don’t pet the sweaty stuff’ mean?”

“In this situation, I take it to mean stop trying to do things Delta’s way.” Dad answered, “Learn math as you learn it, don’t give a whole lot of energy trying to figure out a shitty program that isn’t worth a lot of points anyway, and really only bother with the paper-pencil stuff. Even then, don’t base your ability to learn or do math on your grades as a whole… cuz, like I said, college- community college ‘specially- is like highschool 2.0… Hell, that’s more true today than it was when I was in school, given all of the post-covid highschool grads going to college severely underprepared.”

“Is that why a lot of my assignments are so… rigid in the way they want things done?” I asked, “I mean… it ain’t just this class that’s giving me some stupidly-designed busywork to do. It’s happening in my Research Writing Class, too… just to a lesser extent. And it was really bad in my Intro to Literature class, and my Intro to Writing class, too.”

“Yup. And it’s a real shame you’re being force-fed your college courses like that.” Dad replied, “At the community college level, you’re a rare breed, Maya. Most of your peers have no idea how to study or get shit done in a timely manner, and they sure as hell don’t know how to actually think and learn as you do… That’s why the goal for you right now oughta be to get that degree, so you can actually move up into classes that will actually teach you some shit.”

“Hmmmm…” I growled a third time, “Again, I don’t know if I agree with you or not. I certainly don’t like what you’re saying, though…” 

“Well…” Dad sighed, “It is what it is. I hate to say it, but the world is run by idiots everywhere- ever heard of the term ‘failing upwards’?” 

“Yeah…” I nodded, staring down at my plate of roasted duck I ordered from the Asian restaurant we were seated in, “Donald Trump is the personification of that term.”

Dad’s eyes widened as he inhaled his drink. I pinched the bridge of my nose in embarrassment as he proceeded to cough up half a lung as loudly as he possibly could, before he finally managed to get back his composure. 

“Yup.” Dad coughed as he took another swig of water to soothe his throat, “That’s a perfect example.”

“So…” I smirked, “Are ya tellin’ me that many people who are higher up on the food chain aren’t there for their merit, but because they just kinda got there via bullshit politics and some dumb luck.”

“Yep!” Dad laughed again, “And it’s only gonna get worse as the education system collapses, taking everything else with it.”

“Fuck…”

“Again… it is-”

“What it is.” I interrupted my dad. 

He nodded with approval as he took another bite of his meal. 

“So… to basically recap, what should I do now?” I asked. 

“Again, it’s up to you.” Dad replied, “Don’t worry about wasting money or cost. Don’t worry about your grades, either. Your grades really only tell ya how well you’re grasping content created for post-covid kids who can barely do basic arithmetic. If you get an F despite getting the answers to the equations correct, then I’d honestly count that as a win. In fact, a W on a transcript in my book stands for both Wisdom and a Win…”

“If I were you, I’d screenshot and print out the course outline with everything you’re supposed to learn by May, don’t spend more than two hours a day wrestlin’ with Deltamath on days you don’t have lectures, and withdraw in April with a good idea of what to expect the next go around. Over the summer-and even into the fall- teach yourself that math, then come back to the class when you’re ready to get those credits… Maybe the class’ll be fixed by then.”

“Damn, I hope so.” I nodded, “The two calculus students who were seated next to me dropped out, as has another third of the class.”

“Oh cool!” Dad smiled, “Guess I’ll get a refund for this class, too.”