When I was in high school, I can recall sitting through advanced placement classes thinking about how great it would be to have a couple of credits and intro courses already under my belt when I started college. I thought I was on the right track toward a rewarding four years of studying within my major. I also thought I could pursue my other interests, maybe take an art class, sociology or another language.
But that’s not what college is. You get here, and you might arbitrarily pick a major or walk around undecided for a while. Everybody asks you what your major is, and then they always say that they didn’t know what they were going to do for the longest time either and that eventually, you will figure it out too. And you listen, feeling like it’s only a matter of time before you do figure out your sole interest in life.
Okay, the sole interest? Are you allowed at least two, maybe? Well, for most self-respecting students, a double major is out of the question. It means taking on extra credits wherever you can fit them and doubling or tripling up all of your general education requirements into one class, whether said class interests you or not.
So, what about your other interests? Shouldn’t your “secondary” interests play a role in your education, too?Finally, you pick something you think you can stomach for four straight years that may, but probably won’t, determine the direction of your adult life or create your own major. So, you like drawing cartoons, studying heredity and analyzing poetry? BDIC it. There really aren’t enough analytical Mendelian cartoonists out there. Why should you deny a side of yourself in order to fit into some predetermined major?Let’s discuss general education requirements. What makes physics-chemistry-biology more important than psychology-sociology-anthropology? Why are UMass students required to take two biological or physical sciences and only one psychology or sociology course? Well, for starters, psychology and sociology are lumped together in the same “social world” category as history and literature. Seems a bit off to me. When given a choice – any choice – perhaps, from a list of eight open classes that fulfill one’s historical studies requirement, students often find themselves flummoxed. “A choice?” they think to themselves. But what is this? I was told to take Psych100, Psych240, Psych350, etc. and now they throw an option at me? So frustrated with our limited list of options – all unappealing – though a wide array of alternatives exist outside the gen-ed classification we are obliged to fulfill, many students take the same unfortunate road: Rate My Professors.com. Is he easy? Is she laid back? Can I coast through this class that I have little or no motivation to take?
What is this? Are we still in high school? I ask, because I thought our years of compulsory education ended that day we wore those funny hats and unflattering robes with all of the peers who we were desperate to get away from.
If this is college, then we must have all chosen (for the most part – parental threats aside) to continue our education for at least another four years. So here we are, voluntarily paying to learn, with the illusion of choice. But that’s the problem: It’s an illusion. If we could really choose, we could take so many more of the classes we want to take. Instead, we find ourselves in a class we can’t stand with other students who are head-over-heels for everything the professor says. The motivation to learn begins to dissipate. Next instance: It’s the night before you have two exams. One for that gen-ed that you’ve found to be more challenging than you would’ve liked and the other for one of your favorite classes, one required for your major.
And the conundrum: Do you let your major class suffer a blow in exchange for a little extra review for your gen-ed class? You may feel a need for balance, a need that drives you to split the next four hours in two, giving both subjects a fair amount of time. After all, both classes weigh equally on your G.P.A.
This is your freshman year, a whole year of gen-eds during which your major classes get sidelined in order to make time for the six books you have to read for the only class that was open. You know, the class you took to fulfill your gen-ed that also happens to be a 300-level class, made up completely by avid majors looking to impress the professor in hopes of scoring a recommendation – and you.
The point isn’t that English majors are all science-haters looking to spend the rest of their lives immersed completely in prose and literature or that math majors want nothing to do with letters unless they make up a word problem.
The point is that most students do have a wide array of interests that depart somewhat from their declared concentrations, but with so many classes already accounted for by gen-ed and major requirements, those interests get neglected.
Lauren Rockoff is a Collegian columnist. She can be reached at [email protected].