There is something decidedly unnatural about taking classes during the summer. I become painfully aware of this every morning when I wake up to the beautiful sunshine and sigh contentedly. Then, about three minutes later, I remember that I am in Hanover, and that somehow I have to shower and get to class in under thirty minutes. On half of the days, as I am scurrying to class, I seriously contemplate parking myself on the Green and remaining there for several hours. But of course, I go to class. At least my body does. I think that the rest of me stays out outside, immersed in the warm sunlight and comfy grass. I'm writing this on the Green, as a matter of fact. I've realized that sitting out here is much more conducive to philosophizing than doing anything remotely resembling real work. When I'm tired of thinking, there's always people watching, napping, and various other activities that are so much more fun than reading or writing papers.
See, I think that I sort of messed up on the class selection process for this term, at least one-third of it. I took Shakespeare because I thought it would broaden my horizons. I thought that Shakespeare is one of those things that "educated" people know lots about, and that somehow I could be one of those people. It started off fine: I read A Midsummer Night's Dream with little difficulty. Then the plays started getting harder, and my enthusiasm started to wane. I read Henry IV once, didn't understand it, then tried to buy some Cliffs Notes, but the bookstore was all sold out. (Apparently, I'm not the only one having comprehension problems.) Then I read the play again, thought I understood it, then proceeded to get a six out of 10 on the multiple choice quiz. Oops. From now on, I think I'll stick to classes that I'm personally interested in. I can see lots of art, music, and drama classes in my future. I think I'll get more use out of them after I graduate anyway . I figure that I'll draw and paint and play the piano for the rest of my life, but I don't plan on being 35 and bringing out Henry IV Part II for fun. I'm just not that intellectual. I should have slapped the NRO on the class while I had the chance.
I've determined that we all need to stop referring to exams as midterms. When you say that you have a midterm this week, it implies that a) it is the middle of the term b) you will not have another exam in that class until the final. Most classes don't work that way. We end up starting the first round of exams before we've had three full weeks of classes, and the last round ends about a week before finals. If we truly had "midterms," we'd all have one week, and one week only, that would be entirely miserable and we'd cram like crazy. Then we could use all the other weeks and weekends to road trip to cities that have buildings higher than four stories tall, and where there is something besides Foodstop open at three a.m.
Sophomore summer is actually a pretty good idea. I like being on campus when it is less crowded and it isn't snowing all the time. It's the classes part that I don't like. Why can't we get credit for things like canoeing? If my classes consisted of paddling out on the river all day, I wouldn't care how many exams I took. Other schools give academic credit for physical activities, why can't Dartmouth? When you think about it, the things you develop in a rock-climbing class, such as self-confidence and the ability to work as part of a team, end up being much more applicable to the real-world then lots of the academic stuff we learn for exams then forget the next day. Oh well. It will never happen. If it did, I can just hear my dad saying, "We're paying $30,000 so you can learn how to what? Climb on a bunch of rocks?"
But how can we honestly be expected to concentrate on classes when the weather is so incredibly beautiful? Every time I stay inside to write a paper, I feel like I'm wasting the sunshine. It just feels unnatural. I think I'll ponder this thought for awhile longer, because I don't plan on going inside anytime soon.
