Three R’s causing early onset senioritis

Another day down and 300-plus depressing days to go.

Yep, I’ve come down with an awful case of senioritis. Sure I’ve got a long way to go, but nonetheless I relish the chance to cut off another link on my countdown chain each day. My wife just shakes her head and makes me hide whenever the neighbors come by.

But being the ancient student I am, I figured it was time to pass down a few pearls of wisdom I have gleaned in my years as a student. I’d like to say I could write volumes about what I’ve learned, but I would bore myself in the process and have to write everything in size 724-point font to even create a single volume.

You see, I’m starting my 16th year as a student and I’m beginning to realize that at the end of this year I will be thrust from the school’s uterus into the cold, harsh world and have my umbilical cord of knowledge so cruelly cut off. I knew this day was going to come, but I was always told that going to school would help make this transition easier.

They lied.

In theory, school is supposed to get progressively more difficult and help the student to prepare for his or her chosen occupation. But now that I’ve climbed the educational ranks, I’ve realized college isn’t that different from elementary school. The methodology has just changed; we’re bigger and lazier now and hate our younger selves for ever being excited about going to school.

Let’s demonstrate.

THEN: Kissing tag used to be all the rage in elementary school. Back then, girls used to terrorize boys by chasing them around the playground and once captured, the boys were subjected to kissing. This was enough to have you shunned by the pre-pubescent male conclave and bring shame and humiliation on you for the next five years, forcing you to play jacks in the corner by yourself at recess with your imaginary friend Bob. What, I wasn’t talking about my personal life.

NOW: The tables have turned with the boys chasing the girls trying to kiss them. But once again the girls have the advantage, armed with mace, restraining orders and a backhand of death. But at least you and Bob have become good friends and can hang out on the weekends.

THEN: School lunch consisted of – for the lack of a better word – food, which lacked a distinctive shape or physical property and would cling to the inside of your throat making you gag and reach for the almost sacred mini milk carton. I don’t know what it is about those milk cartons, but they were like manna from heaven, and for only 25 cents I could hydrate myself and feel healthy about it.

NOW: Health has gone out the window and 25 cents can buy two and a half packets of Ramen (the half packet was bought on eBay). The milk carton of the college age is anything with enough caffeine to even buzz Mick Jagger.

THEN: The big goal was to learn the three R’s: reading, ‘riting and ‘rithmetic.

NOW: The big goal is to learn the three R’s: reading, ‘riting and ‘rithmetic. Yeah, you go through school thinking you had those down pat and then get to college to find out you didn’t know anything.

“OK class, today we’re going to learn our ABCs.”

“Sweet, I know these pat. What an idiot.”

“It goes like this: QZRTASMFNH. “

College professors have this talent of turning the world you knew upside down and telling you everything you used to know was a lie. Nothing is sacred. Two plus two doesn’t equal four anymore, summer vacation isn’t a time to play and all papers you write must have sources, and anything you quote from them is plagiarism. Stop this insanity! Whatever happened to those stable days when I could sing a song to learn everything and the world seemed like such a happy place?

It all comes down to the fundamental flaw of the three R’s. You see, only one of them is actually an R: reading. We are really going to school to learn WAR: writing, arithmetic and reading. Yes, this was part FDR’s New Deal. But WAR sounded a little abrasive and to help the southern states understand easier, the first letters were dropped off the other two, creating the three R’s and NASCAR.

In college, professors have a new set of R’s: reading (lots of it), regurgitation and revenue for the school in ever-increasing tuition hikes. I’ve also known a few professors who live by the three P’s: pain, punishment and purgatory.

THEN: Read-a-thons were fun activities where you got to stay up all night reading books about babysitter clubs hanging out with the Hardy Boys getting Goosebumps inside a boxcar with children after locking the Indian in a cupboard.

NOW: Pleasure reading means only having to read 300 pages a night instead of 546.

THEN: Students could wear a Halloween costume to school.

NOW: We’re still waiting for some people to take their costumes off. I’m pointing at you emo kids.

THEN: Every week a student got a chance to bring something to school for show and tell.

NOW: Every hour some student is busy showing and telling things they probably shouldn’t on their laptops in class or while text messaging through a boring lecture.

I could go on, but what’s the point. Sixteen years later and nothing has changed a bit. I’m still tired of school and terrified to actually grow up and get a job. I guess if things go bad enough I can always come back and get a degree in elementary education and get my beloved milk cartons back, and you’d better believe that this time I’m campaigning for chocolate milk days every day.

Seth Hawkins is a senior majoring in public relations who wishes he still got personal pan pizzas for doing his reading. Questions and comments can be sent to him at seth.h@aggiemail.usu.edu