Never ceasing to be amazed.
The Doctor Is In
It was a beautiful morning to wake up to; showing signs it was going to be a gorgeous day. I had the special treat of sleeping in till 9:45 today for our Two-Dimension professor decided to have a mid-term meeting individually. We all selected a time slot and would show up to our appointed time for a ten minute discussion and then blot out the door. My time was 10:20, so a good long nap not only kept me out of the morning chill but I got some cozy Zzz’s to boost my momentum for the day.
I showed up on time but that mattered little because, as usual, the disorganized professor Kip Deeds was up to his usual teaching method- behind schedule and scatter brained. As I waited with two other students, one waiting to go before me, I noticed I had taken most of the work out of my folder and placed it somewhere in the dorm room; which called for a quick gaunt back to the room to retrieve the missing art work and still make it back in time. I was successful in this speedy trip and made it back just in time as some others began to show up. Yet as I waited, catching my breath, I began to get the same idea and notion I would in the doctor’s office or for a dental appointment- “no good can come of this”.
Kip is the type of person who really doesn’t want to teach, it’s just the money resource in his life at the moment. He has even told the class that his passion lies not in teaching but doing his own work, translated in our ears: “I don’t know what I’m doing and I don’t want to be here.” However Mr. Deeds proves that he does have a certain level of care on concern when it comes to teaching the basic and helping every student along the way in the course. He even had plans of his own like going to Belgium this summer for printmaking, one of his many interests. When it comes to critiques he suggests some areas that could stand some improvement but lacks to recognize things done well. He also is not cut out for the public speaking field, so attention spans are outside the classroom day dreaming about a slice of pizza instead of focusing on things like repetition and contrast in a piece of work. You just never know what he is going to say.
The notion I received, “no good can come of this”, grew as I placed my items on the table before the discussion of teacher and student. The showdown, the final frontier, whatever you may call it. To my surprise he didn’t bash me to death or leave things out and actually the meeting was reassuring for my grade and time saving according to my plans for the day. It was brief and informative, short and sweet. He looked over my work and pointed out some things he liked, how I still have a perfect attendance, work on things in class, and try to improve things when suggested. I didn’t get a nasty shot of strange criticism or forced to have an artistic filling or root canal. I made it out alive.
I left Hamilton Hall knowing that my next appointment wasn’t for several months and my record was clear. I didn’t even have to hassle when it came to my health plan.
I showed up on time but that mattered little because, as usual, the disorganized professor Kip Deeds was up to his usual teaching method- behind schedule and scatter brained. As I waited with two other students, one waiting to go before me, I noticed I had taken most of the work out of my folder and placed it somewhere in the dorm room; which called for a quick gaunt back to the room to retrieve the missing art work and still make it back in time. I was successful in this speedy trip and made it back just in time as some others began to show up. Yet as I waited, catching my breath, I began to get the same idea and notion I would in the doctor’s office or for a dental appointment- “no good can come of this”.
Kip is the type of person who really doesn’t want to teach, it’s just the money resource in his life at the moment. He has even told the class that his passion lies not in teaching but doing his own work, translated in our ears: “I don’t know what I’m doing and I don’t want to be here.” However Mr. Deeds proves that he does have a certain level of care on concern when it comes to teaching the basic and helping every student along the way in the course. He even had plans of his own like going to Belgium this summer for printmaking, one of his many interests. When it comes to critiques he suggests some areas that could stand some improvement but lacks to recognize things done well. He also is not cut out for the public speaking field, so attention spans are outside the classroom day dreaming about a slice of pizza instead of focusing on things like repetition and contrast in a piece of work. You just never know what he is going to say.
The notion I received, “no good can come of this”, grew as I placed my items on the table before the discussion of teacher and student. The showdown, the final frontier, whatever you may call it. To my surprise he didn’t bash me to death or leave things out and actually the meeting was reassuring for my grade and time saving according to my plans for the day. It was brief and informative, short and sweet. He looked over my work and pointed out some things he liked, how I still have a perfect attendance, work on things in class, and try to improve things when suggested. I didn’t get a nasty shot of strange criticism or forced to have an artistic filling or root canal. I made it out alive.
I left Hamilton Hall knowing that my next appointment wasn’t for several months and my record was clear. I didn’t even have to hassle when it came to my health plan.
posted by Lindsay K. at 1:53 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home