I've been thinking about our professors a lot lately. It's hard not to as finals draw near. Generally at this point in the semester, I would be cursing their names. I would rant on and on about what terribly wastes of humanity they must be to torture me so with assignments that are obviously designed only to cause maximum pain. But, this semester, I am looking at things a bit differently.
The Virginia Tech. massacre made me think. It made me think about who is around me during class. I linger a bit longer when looking at a fellow student who I might consider strange. My reflection resulted in skepticism and fear, not a resolve to treat others more kindly. Except for professors.
I stare intently at professors knowing that, it is possible that they would throw themselves in harms way to save us. I get now that they aren't just dedicated being stuffy or difficult. They actually might care. Sure, there are notable exceptions. There are profs that would just as soon throw a tardy student in traffic. But, there aren't many.
Maybe I was juvenile. I wanted to believe the worst in my professors to excuse my own failings as a student. Maybe I just never got over second grade.
This exam season, I feel differently all the way to my core. I want to perform and excel as a thank you. I strive to do work that pays homage to the time and energy that my teachers have invested in me. Bitter irony- it's my last semester.
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