UIC, I shake my fist at thee
Huh. Turns out maybe I could have hacked it in that poetry class after all...
I signed up for a poetry class this semester because, to be perfectly honest, poetry scares the shit out of me. I usually *think* I know what's going on, but part of that OCD/anal-retentiveness/perfectionism in me is always wondering if my interpretation is the right one. Granted, for me at least, the beauty of English includes the multiple ways in which things can be interpreted. So, in my quest to become the most well-rounded English teacher I can be, I decided that it would be a good idea to take an Intro to poetry class. You know, face my fears and come out of it a better person blah blah blah.
I soon realized my mistake when faced with writing not one, but *two,* odes this past weekend of approximately 25 lines in length. I froze. I spent the vast majority of my workday yesterday trying to put together an ode to my two ferocious felines I have at home. Then hastily put together another one this morning before going to class - a feat that would prove just how *not* cut out for this class I was.
My teacher has a pretty strict attendance policy. So strict, in fact, that if you show up tardy and don't sign the sign-in sheet, you're considered absent. While learning that broken limbs and the CTA do not make for getting to class on time (ok, ok, maybe I could've left the apartment sooner, but remember, I was trying to sweat out a poem here), I already used up one of the two absences I get for the semester in the third class. Understandably I was upset. I do not start off the semester like this. I show up and pay attention and participate and prove to my professors beyond the shadow of a doubt that I am a superb student. Which then helps in the latter half of the semester when I start to slack off a bit. *Then* I get assigned another poem for Thursday. With another two due next Tuesday. "Fuck this" I thought. I decided to drop the class.
And thank God I did. For while looking for another class to fill my 2-3:15 slot on Tuesdays and Thursdays I thought it might be a good idea to check my DARS report and make sure I wasn't missing anything so that I could graduate without a hitch come May 12. While doing so I saw that one of my English requirements wasn't fulfilled. "Which one?" you ask? "Understanding Literature," aka English 101. In short, I am a 24-year-old, seventh-year senior who is now enrolled in ENGLISH 101!!!! Yes, go ahead, laugh. I did after I stopped crying.
Shame on me for not checking into this sooner and assuming that English 101 was English Comp I like it was at Illinois State. Shame on UIC for not having someone point this out sooner. All in all, I'm grateful that I caught it in time and will not receive one of those letters two weeks before my intended graduation. That, and the fact that I'm dropping a class that brought too much anxiety for a class that will probably be the easiest "A" I've ever gotten.
I signed up for a poetry class this semester because, to be perfectly honest, poetry scares the shit out of me. I usually *think* I know what's going on, but part of that OCD/anal-retentiveness/perfectionism in me is always wondering if my interpretation is the right one. Granted, for me at least, the beauty of English includes the multiple ways in which things can be interpreted. So, in my quest to become the most well-rounded English teacher I can be, I decided that it would be a good idea to take an Intro to poetry class. You know, face my fears and come out of it a better person blah blah blah.
I soon realized my mistake when faced with writing not one, but *two,* odes this past weekend of approximately 25 lines in length. I froze. I spent the vast majority of my workday yesterday trying to put together an ode to my two ferocious felines I have at home. Then hastily put together another one this morning before going to class - a feat that would prove just how *not* cut out for this class I was.
My teacher has a pretty strict attendance policy. So strict, in fact, that if you show up tardy and don't sign the sign-in sheet, you're considered absent. While learning that broken limbs and the CTA do not make for getting to class on time (ok, ok, maybe I could've left the apartment sooner, but remember, I was trying to sweat out a poem here), I already used up one of the two absences I get for the semester in the third class. Understandably I was upset. I do not start off the semester like this. I show up and pay attention and participate and prove to my professors beyond the shadow of a doubt that I am a superb student. Which then helps in the latter half of the semester when I start to slack off a bit. *Then* I get assigned another poem for Thursday. With another two due next Tuesday. "Fuck this" I thought. I decided to drop the class.
And thank God I did. For while looking for another class to fill my 2-3:15 slot on Tuesdays and Thursdays I thought it might be a good idea to check my DARS report and make sure I wasn't missing anything so that I could graduate without a hitch come May 12. While doing so I saw that one of my English requirements wasn't fulfilled. "Which one?" you ask? "Understanding Literature," aka English 101. In short, I am a 24-year-old, seventh-year senior who is now enrolled in ENGLISH 101!!!! Yes, go ahead, laugh. I did after I stopped crying.
Shame on me for not checking into this sooner and assuming that English 101 was English Comp I like it was at Illinois State. Shame on UIC for not having someone point this out sooner. All in all, I'm grateful that I caught it in time and will not receive one of those letters two weeks before my intended graduation. That, and the fact that I'm dropping a class that brought too much anxiety for a class that will probably be the easiest "A" I've ever gotten.