Mason is High School, Part Deux

By Broadside Opinion Columnist Brandon Cosby
Photo by Flickr's 'clgregor'

Just a few minutes ago, I finally put down my fall 2008 George Mason University class catalog. I finished my class selection for the next semester and I have high hopes for English 398, 336 and others. I'm eager to see what's next as I charge through my major requirements and fundamentals. Yet, as I dive into higher level classes, one thought persists: God, I hope things finally get hard!

I'm so tired of paying thousands of dollars in textbooks, housing and meal plans, just to suffer through impenetrably boring lectures and English classes where one can scoot by without even reading a single one of the required books.

I'm no doubt in the minority here, but damn it, I want to be challenged. Yes, being able to nap through your easy IT lecture at 10:30 in the morning or your required Western Civilization class that needs only to be attended a handful of times may lessen the sting of having to actually go to class, but after two years, four semesters and 63 credits, I'm still searching for a challenge.

I want to come out of four years at our illustrious, semi-commuter school feeling like I've learned a thing or two about my major and be that much more prepared for the future I'm trying to make for myself.

Yet milquetoast classes that seem like simple extensions of my public high school education frustrates that.

I want to learn something. I want my professors to not let me squeeze by without reading the books they've assigned or even really studying for the mindless quizzes they throw our way.

The one class where I can honestly say I felt challenged and changed by was my Introduction to International Politics class back during my first semester freshmen year. Professor Tadie, God bless him, actually forced us to sit down and read the textbook we paid over $100 for and discussed it in class. And even then, he didn't simply read from the book. Instead he interpreted, extrapolated and discussed what we had read. And I left that class being able to truthfully say that I knew the difference between Marxism and Constructivism. I thought and learned, and I have yet had a class as challenging.

Isn't that what "higher education" should be anyway? Shouldn't it be something harder than what you've had before — something more engrossing, something more powerful? Should I feel like I'm in grade 13 or 14, yet finally into something more? I've gotten my high school diploma and I'm ready to move on with my life. Yet when I'm stuck in the academic equivalent of second gear, I'm bound to be slightly bitter and frustrated.

I know I'm preaching the unpopular opinion here—I'm probably the lone student in a group of 10 who's asking for a harder test, but that doesn't matter to me. I'm not aiming to be the party crasher, I'm simply asking for what we were promised when we enrolled.

Something has to give here lest we go through these four years here without learning a thing. And if that's truly what you want — a bland, thoughtless education without a drop of challenge — take night classes at a community college. Consider freeing up the parking here at Mason for us. I think my $7,065 in tuition entitles me to a bit more. To paraphrase Howard Beale, right now I'm kinda sorta ticked off, and I'll wait a few more semesters and then I'll get really mad about it.

Until then, I'm content to wag my finger at all my professors that have let me pass a quiz without reading the book that they made me buy. I'm okay with saying shame on you for letting me go through without attending half of your classes.

Shame on you, professors, for letting it be that easy when I'm paying the school to have you teach me something more and something challenging. Also, shame on you for not even caring enough to make things the tiniest bit engaging. Instead, you lazy professors have seemingly been okay with showing up a few minutes late to class and brush through PowerPoint slides and let us fall asleep. This may even be worse as it shows that you don't even really care enough to teach well.

So I say to hell with easy classes. Bring on your five-part Jane Austen compendiums and your pop quizzes and your sadistic 500-question midterms. If that's what it takes to show that you care about your job and if that's what it takes for us to learn a damn thing about Rabelais or physic distance or Neorealism — then so be it.

I just want to learn. It seems to be the least I could ask for.