Dear guy sitting next to us in Biology,
I’m sorry you’re having a hard time focusing right now. To be honest, so am I and I guess it could be for that reason that Julie and I are talking about her boyfriend’s testimony of Café Rio instead of listening to the lecture about the water cycle. I learned about this in elementary school. We sang a song. We should do that now. No, I’m not being fair to you and yes, I do feel guilty. But let me explain…
Okay, so the truth is, I am having a hard time caring at all about this class. I’m about to get a BA in Theatre Arts Studies. Is there a more useless degree? Perhaps. But don’t rain on my pity parade. (Yes, I realize having a degree in theatre is better than not having any degree at all. But, that’s not what I’m talking about.) To get this degree I’m sitting through lectures that consist mainly of tangents and vacation photos. I should be more interested in al of this. I mean, isn’t biology mentioned specifically in the Doctrine and Covenants? The fact is, though, that I see this class as a hoop to jump through. Everyone, in fact, sees this class as a hoop to jump through because those who are actually going into biology are required to take a more intense class, one where the water cycle, I imagine, is a given. (Why am I irritated by the simplistic nature of this curriculum? It means I’ll get an A in here. So, I retract those grievances. Keep cycling, water!)
So, guy sitting next to us, I can only speak for myself but I’m having a hard time connecting this class to anything in the real world. Funny, isn’t it? That in a class all about the living world I have a hard time applying it to my life. But that’s the sad truth, I’m afraid. The truth is I need this class to get a degree that, if things go my way, I have absolutely no need for. My bachelor’s is necessary for my contingency plan, I suppose, but I quite feasibly will never list my undergrad work on a single relevant resume for the rest of my life. When looked at in that context, it’s tough to get too involved in the ramblings of the sweet old man giving this lecture.
I’m glad Julie and I have a class together, not because it will in any way enhance my academic experience in this class. In fact, maybe the fact that she doesn’t come to class sometimes is the reason I did marginally well on the first midterm (86%). The reason I’m happy she’s here to experience this with me is that we seem to provide a veritable “Balm of Gilead” for one another to help deal with the day-to-day annoyances of attending BYU. (Yes, guy next to me, I know I should be grateful for the opportunity to attend BYU. Yes. And I am, truly. It does not, however, change the fact that after four years here I still have an enormously difficult time connecting to the prevailing culture at this fine institution. This is no secret. And I think it’s okay. I’ll donate to the university if I ever sell a screenplay.) It’s during biology that Julie and I unload and manage to laugh about the silly little miseries that make us grit our teeth and roll our eyes any other time. It’s important. For both of us, I think.
But, guy sitting next to us, biology lectures are neither the time nor the place for this activity. You have the right to take notes and get good grades on the remaining two tests and who am I to stand in your way? I’ve gleaned from this lecture about as much information as I would have if I had stayed in the HFAC. Because that’s what I need: more time in the HFAC.
So, thank you, guy sitting next to us. Thank you for reminding me that I have yet another thing I need to work on. I’ve found I spend much less time than most of my dear BYU friends dwelling on my own failings and imperfections. I know they’re there but I tend to believe that simply dwelling on the good things I should be doing is much more effective than thinking about the fact that I’m not doing them as well as I should be. I probably shouldn’t sacrifice biology, healthy sleeping habits, and future financial security because I feel confident in my future as a playwright. And it’s good to be reminded. Even if I resent you and your fashionable wedding ring and thoughtful questions about swamplands in Brazil. That resentment won’t last long. Let’s not lose our heads.
Take care, guy sitting next to us. Kiss your wife and study your copious notes. I won’t ask you to email them to me. I’ll ask someone else. It’s a big class.
Your classmate,
Matthew
PS: The professor said the following a few minutes ago and I thought it was poetic. (See, I’m listening!)
What have we done with the Garden of Eden?
We plowed it and planted corn.
