Over the summer, in-person classes were great!
The professors were much more relaxed. My peers were older and more mature. The material was quick and easy to understand and configure into my schedule. And even on the hottest days, the building was so cold that I wore a hoodie and often picked up hot chocolate from the college cafe to keep myself warm.
But, then… this semester started. Monday was great! My two online classes started without issue. I’m taking Digital Photography and Colorado History online, and both of my professors are awesome so far. Their syllabi are well put-together and make lots of sense. The projects are straightforward and just daunting enough to challenge me without crippling me. Overall, I felt great about this semester, and drove to my only in-person class almost starry-eyed; ready to dive head-first into this semester.
But the second I arrived on campus, I remembered what a real, 16 week semester at community college is like.
It was 100 degrees outside, and easily 85 degrees in the building on the first floor. On the fourth floor, where my class was located, it was probably over 90. I began to worry about spending the next two-and-a-half hours up there, twice a week, for as long as the weather was so hot. Should I even try to do that? Or was it futile to try to learn in such an uncomfortable (and frankly, damn near dangerous) environment?
Well… my prayers were answered in a weird way. At 12:50 PM, as I was getting settled in the classroom close to a floor fan, the exiting professor asked, “What class is next?”
“Psychology 101.” I answered.
“Oh, I thought Psychology 101 started at 2:30.” The professor responded, furrowing her brow.
“Does it?” a student to my right asked with wide eyes.
“I mean…” I stuttered as I fumbled for my phone to look up the schedule.
Sure enough, my class started at 2:30 PM, not 1:00 PM, and was only an hour and fifteen minutes long. Evidently, I wasn’t the only Psychology student to get it wrong, either. Three other people, including the woman who piped up next to me, looked around the room just as baffled as me.
“Well then…” the professor cleared her throat, “It’s a good thing I asked what everyone was doing here.”
“Yeah, thanks.” a student from across the room nodded, flustered.
“Thank God I can go home for a bit…” I muttered to myself as I quickly left the room and headed to my still nice-and-cool Xterra.
I was too warm to feel embarrassed. If anything, I found it funny and strange that four of us sincerely thought the class started at 1:00 PM. I used my walk to the Xterra to laugh at myself a bit, then sped towards home to cool off and prepare for when class actually started.
I returned to campus an hour later with ice packs and water to beat the heat, and it felt even warmer than before both outside and inside. Worse, the class was packed, mostly consisting of bright eyed, fresh-outta-highschool students ready to take on the world. Me, on the other hand? I was grumpy. Mostly because it was too damn hot. But also because I was annoyed by how busy the first week of classes always was. It felt like high school all over again, in many ways, and I hated it.
However, I reassured myself that the first week or two were always the most chaotic weeks of the semester, and things would get much better once the census date came and went. Plus, I only had to endure the heat a little longer. Soon enough, I’ll be bitching about it being too damn cold in the classroom.
As soon as the clock struck 2:30 PM, my professor strutted to the front of the room, cleared her throat, and immediately jumped into the introduction. Being the responsible student I was, I’d already read the syllabus and prepared all of the materials needed for the class. So, I quietly doodled in my notebook while the professor went over the syllabus.
Evidently, all of the young whippersnappers behind me did not read the syllabus, and seemed a bit taken aback when the professor proclaimed, “You are all adults now, so it is your responsibility to study and learn the material presented to you! That, and because attendance is not mandatory, if you spend the entirety of this class on your phone, or talking to your friends, or sleeping, or any of that nonsense, I reserve the right to kick you out… If you cause any sort of unreasonable disturbance, I reserve the right to get campus police involved!”
At first, this struck me as a bit… over-the-top. But, then I remembered that there’d been an incident in the sociology department a semester or two before, where a student had been arrested for getting outraged at the professor over something stupid. Perhaps, that’s why my professor felt the need to make that obvious boundary even more clear. At least, that’s what I told myself to make myself feel better.
Also, I will say, the vibes in the room were off, too. A lot of students were withdrawn, and a couple students left early. Probably because it was hotter than hell. And the professor addressed that by saying, “Had I known it would be this hot, I would’ve held classes virtually today. Keep up-to-date on your email in case I cancel in-person classes last minute, because these are not optimal learning conditions…”
Clearly, the professor was frustrated from the get-go, but I understood. I, too, was frustrated. I wanted to get out of that heat as fast as possible, and made a deal with myself that if the college didn’t get its shit together by the end of the week, I’d drop in-person Psychology and just spend my days doing college entirely online.
