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COLUMN: From bookworm-insomniac to teaching assistant

STEVE SCHWARTZMAN, staff writer

Mike McPhie is a thinker, in every definition of the word. Having little to do to make time pass in his small, dry hometown of Tooele, Utah, he took to reading at a very young age. Now, years later, he has taken it from mere motivation to deep conviction, generally reading two books at a time and finishing them within a week, anything, from Greek theater to Hunter S. Thompson anthologies, all in an effort to form his own view on society and see things the way they should be seen.

He is up and out of bed, in a not-so-spry manner, by 10:30 a.m. each morning, which for him, a chronic insomniac, is more or less his “crack of dawn.” Now it’s time for the morning routine of a quick shower and, quite frankly, two hearty breakfast meals. The first, a plate of buttered toast and baked beans, a cultural mainstay he picked up on his LDS mission to England, and the second, a nutritious helping of World War II history, for his leisure, mind you, “Slaughterhouse-Five” by Kurt Vonnegut.

At this point it’s 12:30 p.m., and McPhie, the 23-year-old law and constitutional studies major, is out the door for his daily trek uphill, to campus. This is one of the more enjoyable parts of his day. He loves walking, especially up 400 North, as it gives him the opportunity to enjoy the coolness and visual grandeur of Cache Valley before enduring classes.

He often comments, throughout the day, that he’d more than gladly give up his beat-up Chevy Cavalier for a decent pair of sneakers, if he didn’t need to make the two-hour drive to his hometown so frequently.

He makes it to campus in time to take a look around the library, in search for more literature to snack on, and then zip over to Old Main, just in time to fulfill his duties as a teaching assistant for humanities professor Carol McNamara.  

He loves his job, because it gives him a chance to enjoy class and be engaged in some behind-the-scenes adventures. Most students are very unaware of the life of a TA, but in McPhie’s perspective it isn’t all too far off from what students experience. He sits in lectures, takes notes, and does his best to participate in discussions and debates while encouraging those around him to do the same. The class recently read Oedipus’ “Antigone,” one of McPhie’s many favorites, and most of the lecture for the day surrounds students sharing applications of the text to everyday life.

After collecting materials and checking over class attendance, he zips across the hall to his 3 p.m. natural disasters class. From there, he makes a brief jaunt over to the Quickstop for a mid-day snack and drink, then he’s en route back to his apartment.

He drags himself into his home at around 5 p.m., where he swiftly does the only thing keeping him afloat with such a demanding schedule, an hour-long nap. By 6 p.m. he’s up, refreshed and ready for catching up on the day’s required events. He takes out his TA notes, organizes them and posts them online, finalizes attendance, and even finds some spare time to do some grading before before he finally realizes it’s past 8 p.m., and he hasn’t had dinner yet. He heads to the kitchen, prepares a plate of shredded beef, then relocates back to his desk to finalize work and do his personal studies while munching on dinner.  

It’s 9:45 p.m., as McPhie, spent from a day of, in his words, “an excess of organized brain-work,” decides to call it a day of grading assignments and learning more about the whiles of state and local politics.

He cools down the night by reading copious amounts of political news ━ which he claims to check near hourly, mourning the break up of alternative band REM, one of his many self-declared muses in life, then pulls out his easel and charcoal for some art work. McPhie said he has been doing artwork seriously for only a few years, but it has proven to be his greatest source of solace in a busy life, so much so that he officially made it his minor last year.

Before he knows it, it’s 3 a.m., a usual occurrence in his case. He puts down his materials, slips into his bedtime attire, brushes his teeth, checks up on some more political news and slips into bed at 3:30 a.m., “Slaughterhouse-Five”  and REM’s “Automatic For the People” in tow. With any hope, he’ll actually be asleep by 5 or 6 a.m.

And somehow, by some divine miracle, he’ll be up at the same time and ready to go as ever, for another day. It’s no shock to him, really. In fact, it’s almost expected for an eccentric, cultured, sleepless teaching assistant, who let’s his thinking do the talking, and if you ask him, he likes it just the way it is.

 

– steve.schwartzman@aggiemail.usu.edu