Community College

It would be really nice to get ahead with your college classes. If only it wasn’t so damn expensive to take those gen-eds over the summer. Here’s a solution, Community college. It’s cheap, exciting, and you can most likely locate one that’s not too far of a commute. It’s perfect for your summer attitude of “getting ahead” by taking a class once a week, goofing off every other day, and scribbling your homework in class the day that it’s due. Every day you receive that not so satisfactory test grade you think to yourself “I just gotta pass.” A few days go by and things start to get a little repetitive, so its time to people watch. Hmm, that’s odd, everyone in the room seems to be representing every ivy league college you know, so why exactly are they here? After a few conversations with these apparent “over-achievers,” you’ll understand what’s really going down in this classroom. Innocently you figure that everyone has the same attitude as yourself, the “I need to get ahead” mentality, and you ask yourself, “would anyone actually attend this facility full-time?”  You turn to the student next to you to strike up a conversation that will ultimately end with the question, “what’s your story?” You are hoping for an honest opinion. He’s got the scruffy look. Actually, he just flat out looks like a bum. He’s wearing a beat-up Harvard sweatshirt and looks like he just woke up, even though it’s 2:30 in the afternoon. In the few moments before the professor walks in with his assortment of random papers he never uses, you lean over and begin with “what’s going on man?” He’s startled by your sociability, but quickly answers your question with the generic “nothin’ much.” You begin to share some information about yourself, where you come from, why you’re here, etcetera. You tell him that you are taking this class just to get ahead and that you plan on returning to your more reputable university in the fall. He chuckles, and looks around as if you’ve just entered a prison, claiming that you are innocent, just like everybody else.  He quickly scans the room for his community college alums to draw attention. He pinches a piece of his old sweatshirt with his two fingers and pulls it away from his chest in attempt to imitate what he believes is “gangsta.” He then says in a very condescending manner, “yeah, and I actually go to Harvard.” Your mind quickly flashes back to when you where in the community bookstore. You are slowly touring the bookstore when you notice the  overpriced community college gear section with shirts, sweatshirts, tote-bags, the works. Then you remember, almost as if you were in slow motion, passing by the very same sweatshirt, with it’s bold, white letters. It read, “HARVARD.” But of course, your new comrade is not only a liar, but also a community college regular. Judging by the fact that the sweatshirt in your flashback was brand new, and his was pretty beat up, he has most certainly been here for a long time and will not be leaving anytime soon. And worst of all, you realize that you were the only one telling the truth all along. The icing on the cake is the day after, where everyone is surprisingly wearing the exact same thing as the day before. You show up late and awkwardly shuffle to your seat. Your seat is empty, but this time you don’t want to sit there. It’s too late, you’ve already chosen. Almost as if  that first day where you decided where to sit, you were deciding where you were going to sit for the duration of the entire class. Ugh. It’s going to be a long semester.