I turned 21 in August, just over a month ago. I am now truly, officially an adult. I can smoke. Play the lottery. Buy porn. Go into a bar and order a drink and not have to worry about being arrested. I am an adult. A mature – well, supposedly mature – human being who is capable of making decisions on my own, whether those decisions are for the good or the bad. Hell, I was an adult when I came into college. I was 18, not a legal drinker yet, but still old enough to do most grown-up things.

So, if I’m legally an adult, then why is it that I feel like I’m a child at this place?

I have a class here at UMass – I won’t mention what it is or who the teacher is – a class I can’t stand to be in. It fulfills a junior year writing requirement (though I am a senior and placed out of all English classes) and as such it requires a lot of writing. Fine, so be it. This is college. Papers are necessary; I can suck it up and write. It isn’t that that bothers me. It’s the way said teacher treats us like little kids when we write. She’s a perfectionist when it comes to papers – every little piece of grammar has to be right, despite the fact that no one ever speaks in grammatical perfection. When we type things incorrectly, she lectures us for a good part of the class on how we need to learn the proper way to write. And she does so in a way that’s so uptight and condescending that it makes me feel like a 5 year-old who has done something wrong.

But, wait a minute, I’m 21. Who cares if I use the passive voice or speak just a bit more poetically than is necessary in my writings? That’s me, my voice, my style. Why do I have to shoehorn myself into some conventional, classical structure? And why do I have to be talked down to if I refuse?

But that’s how it goes at this college. We’re supposed to be learning to deal with the real world, yet I often feel as though I’m treated like I’m still in junior high. The aforementioned teacher, with her wearying, patronizing attitude is bad enough. But I don’t need the whole you-get-three-unexcuseds-before-you-need-a-note routine. Why do I need a note? I’m an adult. I pay for my way here, so it’s my responsibility to keep up with my learning.

Instead of docking students for not going to class, professors and TAs should just shrug them off; if the student doesn’t show then it’s his or her responsibility to get notes from a friend. If they miss out on a class, too bad, move forward, and let them flounder for info if they don’t have the intelligence to attend their classes. I don’t need to slink to the doctors and ask for a note, or ask my parents for a little letter if I need to go to a family function: “Mommy, Daddy, I need a note for Mrs. Doe’s class saying I have to go to a funeral.”

It’s this “you’re not adults, you’re kids” attitude that disgusts me. Yes, some of us do act childish and immature, but then, as adults we have to be held accountable for our childish actions. That does not mean we must be treated like little kids.

I don’t need to be told to show up for class or else; it’s my responsibility and if I don’t then I’m just screwing myself over. I don’t need to be told what classes I have to take to “enrich” my learning – if I’m paying for this place, I should be able to take the classes I think will better me, not the ones the administration requires of me. (At least, as a senior, I thankfully have my godforsaken Gen Eds out of the way.) And I certainly don’t need to be talked down to by some “adult” who thinks she’s better than I am just because she’s even older than I am. This is my money I’m funneling into this place; if I’m paying, I don’t want to come just to be disrespected.

Johnny Donaldson is a Collegian columnist.