The Diary of Queen Mothy |
Meat-Me in Politics written @ 3:56 PM on October 27, 2003 My international politics professor, a native of Jamaica, spent fifteen years in the foreign services and lived in places such as Ethiopia, Quebec, and other fun spots around the world. You can even say he's flown the Concorde and sat in on quite a few U.N. meetings. He knows what the hell he's talking about (or "aboot," as he says with his accent; I blame his years in Quebec for that), but one day he felt a calling to teach at NKU. His goal in life, he says, is to educate us young, ignorant American masses in the ways of politics and to think for ourselves instead of believing the crap Bush and Rumsfeld are feeding to us on a day-in, day-out basis. Therefore, he loves to remind us everyday of our stupidity and ignorance, and the only way to eradicate that is to read, read, READ everything from Al Sharpton's books to the U.N. charter. Oh yeah. And watch 60 Minutes every Sunday, because they know what the hell they're talking aboot! I mean-- about. He devotes ten to fifteen minutes every class period to this habitual tirade. And he has a habit of accusing us of thinking he's full of shit when he's met by the usual silence that follows every mini-lecture. Most of my peers tend to not make eye contact with him out of blatant terror. I, however, have what I now deem a terrible habit of looking people straight in the eye. And for my professor, who's worked first hand in politics and has learned to "read" people, that's a sign of confrontation under any and all circumstances. Yes, that's right: it was my turn to take some heat today. This morning he demanded, "Who watched 60 Minutes last night? Do any of you have any clue what I'm talkin' aboot?" Only two or three people raised their hands. And my professor looked down at his black shoes and shook his head, muttering, "Tsk, tsk. I try to get you an education. I try to get you to read and set aside time to watch these news programs. But if you don't want an education, I can't force you." And then he turned his back and held up his hands innocently; that's always his way of appearing the martyr for the gods of education. Keep in mind this is a 100-level international politics class. So my eyes were locked on him, as is my usual habit when I try to appear as though I'm paying attention, and I was waiting for him to go on to say what the news gurus of 60 Minutes had to report. He caught my stare and remembered me as being one of the many who had not seen last night's episode. I was, in a phrase, "fresh meat." "And why have you not watched 60 Minutes?" he chastised me. "Is it too much to ask on a Sunday night?" I heard Tricia shift uncomfortably in her chair behind me. I fumbled for an answer; my lips parted but no sound came out. I half-wondered if he even knew my name. "If you think I'm full of crap, just say so! Say, 'Dr. Hewan, I think you're full of crap and I want my ears to be shut.'" He opened his arms as if inviting a fight. "Now why is it that you don't do as I ask?" "Well..." I said at last. "I... um... Time..." "What? You don't have enough time? Ho ho!" My professor rolled his eyes and laughed in mockery. He shook his head again and seemed as if he had assailed me enough for not watching 60 Minutes. I sat there stunned. I remembered that a favorite saying of my professor's that he often quotes in his Jamaican drawl is, "Don't judge a person before you walk a mile in his moccosins." It's not that I was surprised that he chose to attack me. It's just that my words came out all jumbled because what I really wanted to say was, Look, pal. I have two B.F.A. majors in art and theater and an Honors minor. I'm carrying the maximum credits for the university, hold a 3.8 GPA, am on full scholarship, and have a 98% in your class. I spend most of the weekends working on homework, including studying for your heinous tests. I have a lot of things on my mind right now about my future and issues going on in my private life. I work just the same as you do, if in different methods, to bring about positive change in this world-- but for the love of God, I don't watch television and I need Sunday nights to myself so BACK OFF. But then I decided saying such a thing would have only invited punishment, hence the reason why my words were stuttering and jumbled. After class, Tricia said to me pitifully, "I tried to save you by glaring at him really hard to take his attention away from you, but..." "It's all right," I answered, "there was nothing you could have done. I had my famous Scrying Stare... I've got to learn how to stop doing that in his class." I refuse to get pissed off about this because that's what my teacher wants; in the meantime, I'm just going to think about how unjust the world is and how my politics professor, in spite of what he preaches, is certainly not helping matters by accusing me, of all people, for slacking. *** In Stagecraft II today we learned how to cut metal using plasma arcs-- which is a helluva lot of fun, let me tell you! I rate it up there with welding! *** I landed a job interview at Michael's tomorrow, and I'm uber-excited. I'm going to know the stock there like the back of my hand and they'll have no choice but to hire me. Therefore I'm heading home to West Chester tomorrow for dinner and the interview after classes. *** As a result of having a good venting session last night, I'm feeling better about the world and can take up my cross once more. I got Katharine's present in the mail the other day. Thanks, Kat, you're a pal! Great use of the Wall Street Journal, too. I bet the post offices between Ithaca, New York and Alexandria, Kentucky loved you. I also bet my international politics professor would have had a few things to say about that.
A Bit of History ~ And Onward! L'Amour Toujours! - August 08, 2005 |
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