Letter to a Professor

Dear Dr. Palmitessa,

It has been five years since I took your European Witch Hunt class at Western Michigan University, which I'm sure you know is half a decade.  In the grand scheme of history, that is not a very long time, but let us put those five years into some perspective.  I have lived a fifth of my life since I took your class.  Between the end of that course and now, I have studied for a year in London, finished two Bachelor's degrees, and moved across the country.  If we are considering my personal history, it is as though thousands of years have past.

And yet, I am still royally pissed off at you.  Your class was named "European Witch Hunt".  It should have been AWESOME, even for someone who isn't as interested in history as I am.  In fact, I am pretty sure there were a few poor souls in that class who were not that into history and just wanted to tell their friends that their gen-ed was about witches.  Don't get me wrong.  I knew going into it that this was not going to be about spells and potions.  I was not looking for an in-depth study of witchCRAFT.  Having been obsessed with the Salem Witch Trials in elementary school (I was secretly a very morbid child), I was ready for all things witchHUNT.  I was ready for you to BRING IT ON.  In a purely historical manner, of course.

Well, you did NOT "bring it".  At no time was it "brought".  Firstly, this was a 400 level history class (which I was taking as a sophomore ::hair flip::) and yet you found it necessary to spend a majority of the class going over the Reformation.  Yes, it was pertinent to the subject on hand, but guess what?  The Reformation is pertinent to many subjects in history, and any schmuck who has made it to a 400 level university history course knows about it.  Don't lecture every class for six weeks about the Reformation, just spend two days on brush up and then start talking about witch hunts!  Of course the two were related, but then we should have been spending brain power on how they were related.  Did you not have enough information to fill up a semester?  I think this must have been the case, because we also watched movies, and I don't mean documentaries.  Now, if this class had been titled "How the European Witch Hunt Has Been Portrayed in (quasi-) Modern Media," I could probably let it slide.  And the "quasi" is in there because these were Hollywood films from the '70's and '80's.  Heck, that sounds like a great class.  Why didn't I sign up for that?  Also, we spent a lot of the end of the semester on "personal research time", which meant I could get my work done, but that's not why I'm paying you.  I'm paying you to inspire/scare me into doing research on my own time.  I guess technically I wasn't paying you, seeing as I had my scholarship, but everyone else in the class was.

So, I'm pretty sure you didn't have enough material for a semester, but you could have done a better job making the information you did have EPIC.  Somehow, you managed to make the European witch hunts boring.  It is people like you who give history a bad name.  YOU, sir.  I understand that history can be a bit dry, especially when reading journal articles that are written by scholars who don't realize that someone may one day want to learn from their publishings.  I get that plowing though primary documents from the 13th century can be a headache.  It seems to follow, at least to me, that history in the classroom should be wicked fun so that everything breaks even.  EUROPEAN WITCH HUNTS.  How many times do I have to say it?  And it was a small class.  There is so much more that can be done in a small group setting that could never fly in a lecture hall.  What are these fun things?  I don't know, it's not my job.  But there must be something.  And it doesn't take much for me to get excited over academics.  You should have seen me in Logic.  Front row, every class, practically seizing over how much I loved doing proofs.  Or Latin.  Or when I took History of Women in the US South and turned a cotton ball into 22 feet of thread.  I get into learning, and you gave me nothing to work with.

And I tried.  I was really excited about this class, and that seemed to bother you.  I (for a while) actually read the assigned books and articles.  I came to class ready to discuss and share and learn with my peers.  You stopped calling on me when I raised my hand.  Just because I was the only one who ever talked.  Do you know how annoying it is to be told you can no longer answer questions and then have to sit in silence as no one else responds.  Sure, if there were other people willing to participate I would (grudgingly) allow them their turn.  But no one ever did.  Waiting in silence is a waste of time.  If the other students don't want to read and discuss, then why not let them coast by?  It's their loss, and if you don't care enough to make the subject interesting, then why would you care if they answer questions?  Just let me answer so that we can all get on with our lives.

Now, as the perpetual optimist that I am, I will note a few things that I did enjoy about your class.  There was no final paper, which is always a plus.  This may have been because you had no motivation to read and grade 17 ten page papers, but I'm not going to ask too many questions.  No paper is fine by me.  Also, you brought donuts one day.  I really like donuts and I love free donuts.  Check plus on that one.

One more thing.  You loved the French and hated the British.  I learned this only after the class was either over or almost over.  I had been showing up at least once a week in my Union Jack zip-up.

Just a recap.  You somehow managed to ruin The European Witch Hunt.  The class.  Not the actual historical occurrence.  That would give you too much credit.

That is all,

E. G. Fritsch

The Snow Day Effect

Yet another reason home schooled kids are just a little bit off.

Everyone (or, almost everyone) knows that there is nothing better than a snow day.  Conversely, there is nothing worse than expecting a snow day, not doing any of your homework (but telling your mom you did), and then being awoken the next day by said mother only to realize that the weather people had once again blown the wintery precipitation completely out of proportion.  Oh, and the fact that your district is one of the only walking districts in the reporting area and having to deal with the fact that your school is THE ONLY ONE THAT STILL HAS CLASS.  This will take years to come to terms with, but is not, in fact, the Snow Day Effect.  The Snow Day Effect, henceforth referred to as the SDE, is the second worse thing that could NOT happen on a potential snow day.  This silver medal of snow day disappointments is not knowing you have a snow day until it is 10am and you've already slept in.  Confused?  See, I want to know I'm sleeping in.  I want to be made fully aware that I am sleeping at a time I would normally be sitting in a desk... WHILE I'M SLEEPING.  I don't think there is any better kind of sleep, and so I had a strict rule that my loving mum had to wake me up at my "normal" school time, tell me I have a snow day, and let me fall back into the most blissful of sleeps.  This, friends, is the SDE.  If, heaven forbid, my mom refrains from waking me up at an ungodly hour just to tell me that I can go back to sleep, the SDE is not achieved.  While I still may be scoring the same hours of extra shuteye, non-SDE sleep is just not the same.

Interestingly, I have grown to love the SDE so much, that I actually started setting my alarm hours before I have to wake up, not so that I am sure to arrive to any obligations in a timely manner, but rather so I can experience SDE sleep on a daily basis.  Awesome?  Yes.  I even let my alarm go off when there is NO specific time I need to be conscious (pause for consideration of the words "conscious", "conscience", and their specific etymologies), meaning that my atomic clock is going off at 7am even if I have no where to go until the afternoon.  So lovely.

On a similar note, if I actually have to wake up early and am worried about possibly oversleeping, my body will sometimes jolt me awake every hour, on the hour, starting at 3am.  This phenomenon can have one of two effects.  Either I a) have a repeated SDE experience or b) end up being so tired from the restlessness that I ultimately oversleep.  Less lovely.

Unfortunately, the era of the true SDE is a short one.  Once you go to college, you're usually stuck with waking up and checking the computer for a snow day.  Or, more often than not, you truly think that classes will be canceled, and they're not.  Sometimes, you make it all the way to campus, and though the university has made no official cancelation, your professor couldn't make it and somehow you didn't get the mass text.  Actually, that happened more when there wasn't snow.  And then you enter the real world, which, unless you're a teacher, does not include snow days.  Thus killing the pure SDE.  Unless you're in London.  Four inches and that whole place freaks out and shuts down.