My high school was relatively small. There was an average of 20 students in each of my classes, so forgive me for looking forward to attending Binghamton University, with its 300-seat lecture halls.
I was excited for the anonymity, the ease with which I could not pay attention, or better yet not even attend class, but what I looked forward to most was a lack of teachers’ pets. With 300 students in a classroom and professors with tight lecture schedules, there simply wouldn’t be time for my classmates to kiss ass. Unfortunately, it wasn’t long before I realized that there are worse things than teachers’ pets.
There is an epidemic at this University — and, I suspect, most schools — of every class having at least one of these insufferably obnoxious people. If you can’t think of an annoying person in one of your classes, then beware, my fellow Bearcat, you very well could be the ass. For all of our sakes, I have decided to assemble a handy guide to see if you are “The Ass in the Class.”
Question 1: Do you agree a lot?
When a professor makes an excellent, well-crafted point on the subject to which they have dedicated a life of study, I am fairly certain that they don’t need you to raise your hand simply to say you agree.
Worse yet, if one of your classmates answers a question intelligently and succinctly, it is not necessary for you to then raise your hand and say, “Yes I agree with what he said … ” and ramble on for five minutes, only rewording the point your classmate just made.
Question 2: Do you “help” the professor teach the class?
Do you find yourself frequently raising your hand to contribute a piece of trivia just barely related to what the professor was saying? It’s simple for non-ass people to understand, but the professor and, more importantly, your classmates, don’t care about the minutia you happen to have open on Wikipedia.
Question 3: Do you not have to raise your hand to speak?
Does it seem like your professor appreciates your input so much that you don’t have to raise your hand like your peers? Perhaps this is not because you are serving as an unofficial teaching assistant, but rather because your professor is just too polite to tell you to shut your driveling mouth.
As hilarious as your anecdote about feeding your dog this morning might be, I can’t help but think that your classmates would appreciate your crappy story more if you didn’t blurt it out in the middle of the professor’s description of the midterm.
And speaking of your funny stories …
Question 4: Are you the funniest person in the class?
I understand that your 300 classmates might seem like a perfect audience for your comedy routine on why oranges are the funniest fruit, but perhaps they did not, in fact, wake up at 8 a.m. to hear you speak.
Perhaps — and I might be going out on a limb here — but, perhaps your classmates have taken out student loans, left their homes and families, registered for classes and maintained perfect attendance so that they could be given the opportunity to learn from experts and not simply to laugh at your fart jokes.
And even if they did, you’re still wrong; everyone knows bananas are the funniest fruit.