As I said last week, going to school as an adult is pretty much the same as high school. The teacher’s heels click down the hall as she walks to the room, I got caught spacing out when she called on me the other day, I’ve already identified the jock and the A+ student, etc.
We have been asked to read a novel that we can discuss as a class. First thing today, everyone complained about the choice of novel. “It’s too hard, can’t we pick whatever we want?” That took up 20 minutes and the answer of course was no. This reminds me of the same thing we did in 7th grade when we didn’t want to read George Orwell’s “1984”. We complained so much that we got “The Outsiders” instead. Lesson learned. Never complain. Orwell is clearly the superior, though my 12-yr old self didn’t realize it at the time.
We also got someone in the back of the room today who raised his hand and complained, “Why does Swedish have to have so many words that mean the same thing?” The teacher of course asked if his native Greek did not have 2 words that meant basically the same thing – like happy and glad.
I await more interesting discussion from my classmates tomorrow.
