There are 20-tons of people on campus. The Fall semester is an amazing difference between summer school. It can feel, at times, very claustrophobic. Riding the bicycle can be problematic, especially when folks stroll along, plugged into their iPod, meandering their way in the bicycle lane.
Do you see the difference in the concrete? One path, the walking path, is grey colored. The red path with bicycle icons stamped in it is the … can you guess … the bicycle lane. Many college students, like this young lady, have yet to figure this out.
She will soon enough. One of these days some bicycler will plow her over, splashing her backpack all over creation. Then she will use those critical thinking skills to deduce what those red bicycles mean. The joys of the epiphany.
Most of my classes are average – 30 people or less. My class, History 122, is a basic gen-ed class studying America after 1870. I share it with over 60 other people. I have never had a class that big. In fact I graduated high school with a class of 65. I earned my bachelor’s degree from Drury. I’ve never seen anything like this before. With that many kids, especially young ones, you can image how many clothes-related distractions there might be. I sit in the second row, isle seat, and keep my eyes on the power point presentation. See no evil … neither sleet, nor snow, thongs nor tit bibs shall keep me from my duties.
So far the class is interesting as the professor is talking about the discrimination of the Native Americans through the expansion of European settlements and the government-supported destruction of the Native American culture through the creation of off-reservation boarding schools. I find it interesting how the government used Native Americans to police other Native Americans in order to enforce the governement's anti-Indian culture policies. Any of this sound familiar? We do love to occupy and liberate. It’s what we do.
We wonder; we wonder, while we diddle our plunder. We just can't imagine why other's don't like us. We're pretty and portly while eating our cake. And the others they wonder how they lost their own culture.
She will soon enough. One of these days some bicycler will plow her over, splashing her backpack all over creation. Then she will use those critical thinking skills to deduce what those red bicycles mean. The joys of the epiphany.
Most of my classes are average – 30 people or less. My class, History 122, is a basic gen-ed class studying America after 1870. I share it with over 60 other people. I have never had a class that big. In fact I graduated high school with a class of 65. I earned my bachelor’s degree from Drury. I’ve never seen anything like this before. With that many kids, especially young ones, you can image how many clothes-related distractions there might be. I sit in the second row, isle seat, and keep my eyes on the power point presentation. See no evil … neither sleet, nor snow, thongs nor tit bibs shall keep me from my duties.
So far the class is interesting as the professor is talking about the discrimination of the Native Americans through the expansion of European settlements and the government-supported destruction of the Native American culture through the creation of off-reservation boarding schools. I find it interesting how the government used Native Americans to police other Native Americans in order to enforce the governement's anti-Indian culture policies. Any of this sound familiar? We do love to occupy and liberate. It’s what we do.
We wonder; we wonder, while we diddle our plunder. We just can't imagine why other's don't like us. We're pretty and portly while eating our cake. And the others they wonder how they lost their own culture.
1 comment:
"Do you see the difference in the concrete? One path, the walking path, is grey colored. The red path with bicycle icons stamped in it is the … can you guess … the bicycle lane. Many college students, like this young lady, have yet to figure this out.
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I would not hold my breath waiting for them to figure it out; they (MSU pedestrians) still have a nasty habit of darting out in front of cars, taking their lives into their own hands...and I am remarkably pedestrian friendly...hate to see what will happen when they encounter someone who is not.
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