Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Class last night.

Dropped back into the fishtank.

Tuesday's class is particularly discussion heavy (as opposed to lecture heavy), with a focus on postmoderism and the romantic identity.

It's amusing, with all the classes I've taken for another major, classes that should have been discussion heavy... this is the first I've taken in quite a long time that enables the student to share, argue, and discuss.

And I'm, apparently, a golden god.

Laughter is appropriate, yes.

But look at it this way:

I started college when I was sixteen. Dropped out when I was seventeen, took a semester, maybe two off, enrolled in another college, graduated with two AAs (whoo?), transferred, graduated with my BA, was immediately sent back to college by the company I work for (another year), then re-enrolled into my old four-year in order to complete some pre-reqs for entry into the Master's program.

You would think, because of the constant college attendance for the last ten years of my life, that I would be... not so out there. That I would be like any other college student with limited life experience.

But I never allowed college to dominate my life. It was a side project. I was out partying, clubbing, meeting new people, going to strange places, constantly reading, constantly discussing philosophy, sexuality, socialization, seeing all that I could, learning all that I could. Because that's what I enjoy.

Most of the people in my class are either several years younger than me, on their college-to-career path, focusing all of their energies on their school work and keeping the same social set they had from high school (I did not leave high school with a social set and purposefully rotate through several social groups), or they are women in their forties and fifties, coming in after marrying and raising a family, having dropped out of college, so all that they know is their kids, how to drive a mini-van to soccer practice, and their part-time secratary role.

So you toss me in there... and chaos ensues.

A little over every other class, a new person that I rarely recognize comes up to tell me that I make amazing arguments, they really like my point of view, or that I'm so out there and I make them think. I've had class stopped for me, class derailed for me, and last night a guy who I noted weeks ago had interest in me, basically jumped ship on his facilitation in order to have a conversation with me about values and identity while the rest of the class watched on, to the point where I had to purposefully add another person into the mix before it became awkward.

It's good for my ego.

But this is not someplace I wish to rest.

To get better, one has to engage with others better than oneself.

I keep telling guys this, the guys who go for the innocent young girls and deride the more experienced of us: you will never up your game, will never get better in bed, never know your limits, if you keep going after people less experienced than you. It's a good ego stroke but that's all it is. Stop the mental masturbation.

Last week, a theory I tossed out at the professor actually made her sit down.

This week, I noted that when I am off, surfing the internet and not participating, class slows and I end up getting stared at.

This week, I earned my letter of recommendation to the Master's program.

Places to go, a person to be.

If you are a puppy, find the bigger dogs to show you how to play.
If you stay with the rest, the best you'll get is paper-trained.


  1. I found myself in a similar situation until recently whilst doing my you my classmates were from either end of the spectrum and like you, I found myself at the centre of attention a lot, not because I was academically cleverer but because my outside of the box experiences have led me to be able to view things differently...when some of the other students would look at me dumbstruck with puppy dog eyes it made me uncomfortable and feel opposed to when I read your blog.

  2. "To get better, one has to engage with others better than oneself."

    I'm most struck by the word 'better.' It implies comparison.

    In comedy and dancing, I've found I often learn from people who are less experienced and skilled than me. They don't know the 'right' way to do things, so sometimes they are the ones most likely to surprise me.

    Many times it's crap. But every once and a while you get surprised. Or you see a way what their doing could be shaped or tweaked to create something really awesome.

    I would say to get better one has to engage with others DIFFERENT than oneself.

    And then I would stop again and look at the first use of the word 'better.'

    Better than whom? Better than who I am now? Better than my friends, my rivals, my influences? Am I going to live my entire life thinking I'm not good enough until I master the next turn, the next joke?

    Because the jokes come. The turns come.

    But the feeling of being good enough isn't there. Maybe the next turn, the next joke, a higher paying show.

    Nope. Not there either.

    And then there are the times I don't worry about getting better. The times I just dance. The time I just tell jokes.

    Oddly enough, those are the moments where I improve the most.

  3. Mysterg, too bad we weren't in the same class together... that could have proved very entertaining.


    You're absolutely right. Exposure to a variety of people with a variety of values with differing levels of experience is certainly more educatory than running with the same people. Points to you, senor.