Merry Christmas to all...

It. Is. Finished. The semester, anyway. It is such an incredible relief, I can't begin to tell you. I turned in my research paper Wednesday night (the one the prof. never bothered to get back with me about) and then I was free. I am absolutely beside myself.

Now, instead of being in a school-induced frenzy I am in a house-cleaning, getting-ready-for-Christmas frenzy. It feels good. Christmas is almost here, and even though I'm not ready, I still have time to enjoy the season for a little while.

Semester recap:

British Empire - Interesting class, but it is hard to sit still and stay focused for three hours on a Monday night. Nonetheless, I believe I now have a good overview of the British Empire (first and second) and though the professor was not an exciting speaker, he was interesting, consistent, and always provided feedback on essays. I would like to take him again if there is ever opportunity.

Latin American Civilization - My favorite class with the most interesting and enthusiastic professor. Unfortunately, we only covered two-thirds of the material on the syllabus because he was always gone. In addition, I am not happy that, though the syllabus required him to return our final research paper to us with suggestions for improvement, he never bothered to do so. Great teacher, interesting class, but gone too much and frequently too busy for his students. Unfortunate. I was hoping to take him for my senior seminar, but now I'm not so sure.

Spanish Proficiency Skills - Well, I'm not sure how proficient I am, but I survived the class. There was method to his madness and, aside from the first few weeks when I thought he was the devil incarnate, he turned out to be a decent young man who sincerely wanted his students to learn and was willing to go to great lengths to make it happen. Even though he knew of my aversion to public speaking, he still chose me as one of the students to give a short presentation, during the last class session before finals, over two Spanish videos that we had to watch outside of class. I wasn't sure why he picked me, but I managed to make my presentation, whereas several classmates failed to show up for class to give theirs and one young lady said she couldn't (and wouldn't) do the presentation. (I didn't know you could say such things to a teacher?!?). This assignment enabled me to make an "A" on the final. Enough said.

Introduction to Ethics - A philosophy class is a requirement for a BA and I took this class online at the community college. I knew what to expect from this teacher so there were no surprises. I learned a little about several philosophers, but what sticks in my mind the most is Jeremy Bentham, stuffed and on display in a box somewhere in England. You can't make this stuff up.

So that's it. Another semester conquered and another coming up. Many thanks to my on-line friends for their support. Now we can relax and enjoy the holidays!

Race to the Finish Line

I'll do anything to avoid starting this paper. It only needs to be 3-5 pages long, and it is due tomorrow, but I would rather blog.
I have three finals to take Blackboard, which I am hoping to accomplish this weekend. Monday is my Spanish final, which doesn't bear thinking about. My terror will be limitless. Three tests, a paper, and an in person final. Then I will be finished.

Oh wait. I forgot about the research paper. I worked relentlessly over Thanksgiving holiday to complete the rough draft that, according to the syllabus, is a requirement. When I turned it in Monday, my professor was completely astonished. I reminded him that this was a requirement that, according to his syllabus, would be part of our final grade. He promised to look it over and get back with me about any needed improvements. Well. Hasn't happened yet. Yesterday was our last day of class, and once again he promised to e-mail me with links to some primary sources (to add a couple of citations), which he said was all I needed. He told me, "Basically, you are through". I was thrilled to hear that, because quite frankly, I will be surprised if I ever hear from him again.

Enough stalling. I had better get back to my paper about the consequences of Spanish conquest on indigenous cultures of Meso- and South America.

Thanksgiving is over and for that I am thankful. It is so much work and stress for what ends up being a two hour period when we are all together and I just have to wonder, is it worth it? Not really, not when I have so much homework. It's hard to enjoy the holidays when there are so many other things hanging over my head. So here I am on a Saturday night, trying to finish my Columbian Exchange paper so I can turn in a rough draft on Monday. Really, I need to get a life. In slightly less than three weeks the semester will be over and I will stop complaining. Really.

End-of-Semester Blues

I miss my friends. I used to have some. I used to have a life. I miss hanging out with the girls, watching chick flicks, laughing and acting silly. I can't remember the last time I had a chance to do something like that. It seems like all my friends have scattered, with busy lives, busy families. I'm certainly no exception. Will there be a life left for me when I finish school? I read a magazine article recently about how hard it is to make friends in your forties. Some were of the opinion that it isn't just a matter of being hard to make friends; others believe it is just harder to find other women with whom we have common ground. Both may be true, I'm not sure.

I've spent all weekend working on a paper for Latin American Civ. I'm nowhere near finished. I need to have about another ten pages in order to turn in a rough draft right after Thanksgiving. My Spanish teacher is prepping us for our final, which will be a two minute presentation to him in his office. We have to find two articles in Spanish, both with similar themes, and then tell him, in Spanish, a summary of both articles. Slightly scary, but at least it we don't have to do it in front of the class.

I'm really looking forward to the end of this semester. It has been a long, hard 16 weeks. I can't wait to have time to read for fun, to read as many blogs as I want to without feeling guilty, to watch a movie in English (or in Spanish, if it has Javier Bardem), or just lay on the floor and stare at the ceiling. It doesn't really matter. Just rest and no stress. It's good to have something to look forward to.

My great-grandfather couldn't read or write. He worked hard all of his life, had a driver's license and drove a car, voted in each election, and traveled throughout the city and county, yet he couldn't read the street signs or sign his name. The most he could do with a pen was make a scraggly X on documents in place of his name.

I'm reminded of his illiteracy when I'm in Spanish class, and as usual I only half know what is going on. I don't understand everything I hear or see. This is actually a big improvement; at the beginning of the semester I never knew what was going on; now I understand at least half to three-quarters of what he says. I no longer cringe quite so badly when he calls on me to speak. I'm becoming a little more comfortable with trying to speak the language in front of people who are able to speak Spanish so much better than I can. In short, I'm learning and improving as time goes on.

My great-grandfather never improved, he never got any better; he spent his entire life unable to read anything. He never complained and he never seemed to feel the lack. He just carried on doing what he had to do and coped however he could. Like Grandpa, I have found ways of coping when I don't understand what I see and hear. I watch and listen intently to the teacher. I watch my classmates. I follow along as best I can and if I'm heading the wrong way, someone will tell me. Grandpa had his own ways of coping. When he went to vote someone would read the ballot to him. Medical and legal documents where read to him before he made his X. Whenever he needed to drive somewhere new, he was given directions based on landmarks, or someone would go with him the first time. He then found his own way to get back home, usually taking a more scenic route that was more complicated but involved less traffic. He wasn't stupid, he just couldn't read.

I don't know how much stress his inability to read may have caused him throughout his eighty-five year life, or how he may have felt about being illiterate. It was just the way he was, and growing up the way he did, maybe he never expected anything different. I didn't give it much thought when I was young, but in retrospect, I admire the way he lived his life in a world he didn't fully understand. He always did it without complaint and without blame or bitterness. And seemingly without fear.

I registered on Monday for the spring semester. I've already dropped one class and added another. It is still subject to change, but right now my schedule includes Spanish Composition, American Religious History, East Asian Civilization I, and People and Cultures of the Caribbean. I am so ready for this semester to be over so I can give my brain a brief rest before diving into the next semester. I just tell myself that I will be one step closer to the finish line!

And so we are in the homestretch, and we are all tired. At least, I know I am. I finally have an outline for my Latin American Civ. paper and I'm hoping to get a good chunk of it written next weekend while my husband is out of town. I have a test in British Empire this week; an Ethics assignment due Thursday. The Spanish teacher chewed us all out Friday for not talking. Half the class skipped (probably because it was such a beautiful day)and the rest of us apparently didn't have much to say, at least not in Spanish. I was just glad that for a change I wasn't the only one not talking. Please let it be over soon.

On a positive note, I'm happy to have found others like me, non-trad students. They are all on-line, as I never see any on campus. ( I know they are there; I think they are all in accounting or in some other more practical major.) I take comfort in this virtual club when I'm in class with a group of twenty-year-old students who are complaining about being tired and not having enough time to get their homework done. Occasionally when I hear these complaints, one of them will realize who they are talking to and have the grace to look embarrassed. Most of them don't have a clue.

Tomorrow is my designated registration day. Decision time, although I'm feeling quite wishy-washy right now. New classes are frequently added to or removed from the schedule, so my options could change before registration ends. This could be good or it could be bad. There are so few history classes offered each semester already, it makes it hard to plan my schedule so that I am on track to graduate in spring 2011. What a day that will be!