Sometimes I just don’t understand professors.  Sure, a part of it is their willingness to teach our future for such small wages.  If I were in their position, I’d completely abuse that power.  “Listen, lady.  If you want your kid to grow up and learn to do things right, it’ll be another 50 grand.  Otherwise, I teach young Johnny how to cook the books and he’ll wind up in the slammer with all who have gone on before.  It’s your choice.”

The other part of my puzzlement comes from some of the things they do.  Our example comes from this semester’s experience.  I have two classes.  One deals with financial stuff that I hope to avoid for the rest of my life while the other works on my communication skills.  The financial class has been brutal.  The pace, the content, and the workload have been much higher than anything that I have experienced thus far in grad school.  Sure, I’d like to yell at the professor and remind him that we are students that have full-time jobs and families, but I’m sure he wouldn’t care.  But, the most troubling thing came when I looked at my course syllabus this past weekend.

I have been through 11 lectures and two exams.  Each lecture required 2-3 hours of homework and the exams required a good bit of studying.  So, with only one class and one exam left, you’d think that I’d have most of the grade figured out.  WRONG.  Over 50% of the course grade is still up for grabs!  Can you believe that?  All of the work that I’ve put in for the previous 15 weeks matters less than what I do in the next week-and-a-half?!

Usually, I’m able to hit the last couple of weeks with an easy stride, tie up a few loose ends, and then bid the semester farewell as it moseys into the sunset.  But this semester, I’m going to have to actually try.  What is with these professors?  I’d much rather learn how to cook the books.