June 15: Day 2
June 15: Day 2
Today marked the advent of our official classes. I woke up around six, took a much needed, but hitherto unavailable, shower, called Kath (which was fantastically lovely), then ate breakfast. That accomplished, I went on to my first set of week-long classes.
For our first period of the day, I have “Don’t Want to Be an American Idiot: One Nation Controlled by the Media,” which examines America’s advertising cartels and their impact on our cultural psyche. I was just a bit disappointed by it, because Jill, our instructor (all Commie instructors insist that we address them by first name only, which, as Rand can attest to, is no easy feat), advertised the class as a Socratic seminar of sorts, while it actually consisted of lectures and videos with practically no class participation. I hope that this day was just an introduction and that socialism will assert itself as the week wears on.
My second period was ever so indescribably better. Our instructor is Scott, an unmarried, middle aged, football coaching, English teacher who openly confessed to us that he doesn’t prepare for his lessons, so I was just a bit apprehensive. In all actuality, however, this only serves to make him the single most… human teacher I’ve ever had. The class, “Coming of Age in a Teenage Wasteland,” (my second choice; my first choice was a mini NaNoWriMo), focused primarily on the 80s TV show “The Wonder Years,” backing up the important points in the show with lessons in psychology and short stories. It made up for all the conversational shortcomings of the previous class; we discussed practically every valid point, and it was a genuinely wonderful exercise.
After lunch, I interviewed for (and was accepted into) the computing minor. This was a complete bolt out of the blue, as I had only been considering Design and Vocals. Struck by a sudden impulse, however, I ran as quickly as I could towards the computer lab, barely making it there in time for the session. But it went well, and I hope that tomorrow works out too.
Socially, campus life both exceeds and falls far short of my expectations. I had anticipated a truly collegiate experience, with only the best and the brightest surrounding me and an undeniable air of erudition pervading the campus. Unfortunately, the program is seeming more and more like high school, version 1.2. We have a degree of independence, but the total lack of serious maturity severely limits it, resulting in such regrettably necessary policies as placing our cell phones on our dorm desks during classes (in other words, for the better half of the day). Though the students are definitely educationally developed, most aren’t exactly intellectuals. Some are simply too shy for sustained conversation on advanced topics, while others are simply too ignorant.
Fortunately, the counter-culture of friendly, intelligent, mature individuals has not completely forsaken GHP, and I’ve been graced by no small amount of them. At first, I had the hardest trouble meeting people. This trend was utterly reversed (thank all sorts of god) when I started carrying around my pink and blue parasol (courtesy of Neko Neko). It drives away the fools to whom I have no desire to talk in the first place, and attracts those with whom I would happily develop lasting friendships. Which I’m sure is a fantastic metaphor for something or other, but I’m a bit too tired to figure it out right now…
What does this computing class entail?
It would appear that your experience at GHP is much like what I experienced five years ago at Duke TIP. It really isn’t a college experience, simply because stupidity still abounds.
…why in god’s name do you have a parasol?
Posted 2 years, 8 months ago~Activity #3 is my favorite, but everything else sounds pretty fantastic, too.
Posted 2 years, 8 months ago~The store is “Niko Niko” (ニコニコ, grin), not “Neko Neko” (猫々, cat^2), and I had no idea you got a parasol. That’s amazing, and I need a picture, please. ^^
~Class #2 sounds wonderful. I want it.
~There are lots of idiots at college, too, especially at the beginning – it takes a little while to weed out the good people. And even then, the only way to avoid idiots completely is to avoid everyone you don’t know. It’s usually not worth it, because the fantastic people are entirely fantastic enough to make up for the idiots.