Sarah Pye
Associate Editor
At one point or another, it happens to all of us: Luck runs out, and we’re saddled with the dreaded schedule that includes a 6 to 10 p.m. class. Despite our whining, despite our protests, despite our changing of majors to avoid it, the treacherous four-hour class catches up with us all. And once saddled with this beast, it’s best to quit complaining and instead turn to your friends at the Graphic for some time-tested coping strategies. They may not win you an A, but these tactics can fool even the most grizzled veteran professor into thinking you’re enraptured by his 382 PowerPoint slides on the brilliant philosophy of “Who Moved My Cheese?”
Step one: Let’s Clarify
Just so we’re all clear: these steps are going to deal a lot more with the “appear to be paying attention” than with the “actually paying attention” side of things. For those who want to know how to actually pay attention in class, the advice is basic: Take notes and regularly stab yourself in the thigh with your pen to ward off sleep. Truth is, we all learned how to actually pay attention when it’s necessary at about the time we were learning the multiplication tables in third grade. However, appearing to pay attention while actually thinking about some non-class-related, though vital, issue (such as the current situation in Darfur, or how Jen is coping after the big split from Brad) takes a level of sophistication that, frankly, can only be learned by paying professionals large sums of cash. Unfortunately, you only have the Graphic, so there’s not much hope for you.
Step two: Fill your tank
Ah, I see you’ve made it to Step 2. Probably unwise, but well done all the same. Now, just as a well-trained soldier would never enter the battlefield without the proper equipment and provisions, neither should you attempt to survive a four-hour night class without fully preparing. You’re going to need more powerful weapons: namely, snacks. This is the War on Boredom, after all. The worst way to attempt a long class is on an empty stomach: without preparation, you’ll spend the whole class dreaming about tuna melts and thick chocolate shakes. While this might seem like a pleasant alternative to focusing on the professor’s droning lecture on the anatomy of a crayfish, the rumbling of your stomach will give you away in a second. Better to eat beforehand; or, for maximum double-tasking points, just bring your whole Lean Cuisine dinner into class. I’m sure no one will mind.
Step three: Assess the enemy
It’s very important that you know what sort of professor you’re dealing with in an attempting-to-appear-interested situation. Some are old codgers — you could be handing in your assignments via carrier pigeon and they would hardly notice. Others, however, are more difficult to hoodwink into believing that you’re actually paying attention, and this is the sort for which we must be on the lookout. Should you have the misfortune to have been saddled with the highly alert variety of professor, it will be important to be stealthy. However, it is possible to fool even the most daunting foe. An especially useful trick is to ask a few mildly intelligent questions at the beginning of class. This should fulfill any need for you to participate further, and then you’ll be pretty much left to your own devices for the next three hours and fifty-four minutes.
Step four: Develop your stare
A helpful tip: Try practicing some sincere, “I’m very interested in what you are saying” looks at home in the mirror before class. You may have had previous experiences making such faces, like when listening to stories about your grandparents’ childhoods during the Depression, or while pretending to “appreciate” modern art. It is important to look as though you are concentrating, while at the same time avoiding any resemblance to a monkey (this is where our president could take a few pointers). But once you have developed an interested-looking stare, the rewards will be endless.
Step five: Let your mind wander
Once you have mastered the art of looking as though you are absorbing every word your professor has to say, you will be free to let your mind flit about, landing on any topic it finds appealing. However, once you have exhausted your mental rehash of the articles in this week’s In Touch, drawn up your grocery list, and decided what to eat for your next six meals, you may be plumb out of things to think about. This is when fun in-class mind games come in handy, such as Trash What Your Professor is Wearing, Count the Ceiling Tiles, and, of course, the ever-popular How Many People Here Have I Made Out With?
Step six: Free at last
After eating a full meal, asking your semi-pertinent questions, staring intently at nothing in particular and lamenting your professor’s choice to pair a tweed jacket with a paisley tie, your time in class may be almost up. You might have to fill the last few minutes by counting the specks of lint on your trousers, but after that, freedom is yours. Cherish it, savor it, but remember, come next Monday at 6 p.m., you know where you’ll be all over again. Don’t forget to pack your snacks.
02-24-2005
