When I was entering my senior year of high school, I was so glad that my school had finally forgone the dreaded “summer reading list.” I thought to myself: I’m finally rid of doing meaningless, tedious and tiresome reading over the summer for no reason at all.
Then I got into Quinnipiac University.
In the mail comes a letter, a letter that tells me I better head to my nearest bookstore to pick up a copy of “The Color of Water: A Black Man’s Tribute to His White Mother.” We were required to read this book for the first of our three required QU seminars. Right then, I should have realized that these classed would be a royal pain.
Students entering Quinnipiac in the fall of 2006 were required to take three (QU 101, 201 and 301) separate seminar classes. Three classes prohibit me from taking more classes in my major, more classes toward my eventual profession. Wouldn’t QU want their students to know more about any given subject, the one they’re studying for four years of their life, to put them out into the world better prepared for what’s going to come? And it doesn’t just end with the QU seminars.
I’m forced to take two science classes, two foreign language classes, math classes and of course those mind-numbing QU classes. Isn’t that what high school was for? You got a taste of everything on your path to becoming well rounded and finding what you really enjoy doing. Instead of coming to college and being able to fully focus on your major of choice, you have to juggle those classes with the “core” classes you probably don’t enjoy.
Originally, I entered Quinnipiac as a marketing major in the business school. One of the motivating reasons for that was so I wouldn’t have to take a foreign language class. I was bad at Spanish all through high school. When I took my last Spanish course in my junior year of high school, I was the happiest person alive. In fact, I was so adamant against taking another Spanish class, I got in a verbal sparring match with my Spanish teacher, college guidance counselor and mother outside of the school library. I was bad at Spanish then and I’m bad at Spanish now.
Unfortunately, I changed my major and three years after the yelling bout, I was back in Spanish class. My time would be much better spent learning the nuances of AP Style or how to put together a video package. Instead, I’m learning the various uses and tenses of “gustar.”
The best I can muster is “No me gusta español.”
I understand taking core classes my freshman year. Some students come in to school without knowing exactly what they want to do. These classes may help them finally figure out what they want to do. After that though, it’s a tiresome waste of time and money.
