The Final Frontier
September 30th, 2009
It’s safe to say that here at Presbyterian College, diversity is to be expected. Even though the title of the school refers to a specific denomination of the Protestant side of Christianity, anybody is welcome to enroll. It’s also safe to say that the classes are challenging and engaging. However, a strange thing occurs inside young students as they find the version of college that they appreciate the most. Each student finds their way to the houses or some social event and answers that age old question.
What is your major?
Even though every student at this school had to answer that question for every relative, high school friend, employer, doctor, dentist, and lawyer before they even finished high school, there’s something about approaching a group of strangers and telling them what you plan to study for four years that is different. When I tell people that I’m an English Major I just get the knowing nod. “He’ll probably be a high school teacher, maybe a college professor if he sticks with it. He’ll be middle to lower middle class.”
While all those things are true, it’s interesting that they immediately become who I am. For instance, I’ve recently met a few people that plan to become Medical Doctors. I immediately thought of how stressed out they would be in the future. I thought about the cost of medical school, the salaries they would get in exchange for time with their families, the crucial decisions they would have to make about patients without getting emotional, etc.
I caught myself. I thought, you know maybe that doesn’t happen to everybody. Maybe that’s just the doctors on television. I have all these pre-conceived notions of what a doctor is, then I project them upon people with a sort of patronizing attitude. I don’t know if that’s how everybody is, but I’m sure I’m not the only one.
So I decided not to ask people of their majors, not to think about them if I already knew them, and to just try to understand them as just another student. It sounds elementary. I’m sure you’re thinking right now that you don’t judge people based on such a trivial thing as that. Yet deep down I also know that there is a culture clash between, say, English Majors and Math Majors, or Biology Majors and Religion Majors, because I’ve seen it. So maybe this article is a little too much like The Breakfast Club or Empire Records, trying to play the liberal card. That’s not my intention, it’s just an observation I’ve made that actually holds pretty well. I think that maybe breaking those preconceived notions about the other person because of the major may actually be the final frontier.
Announcement 1: PC Democrats exist. I bet you didn’t know that, considering all the conservative students on campus who drown us out, but PC Dems meets every other Tuesday at 8:15 in the CIH classroom (we last met September 29th), and we have many activities lined up including t-shirts that make fun of Joe Wilson (and other things but they’re not as important as t-shirts that make fun of Joe Wilson and really, what more could you want from a liberal group in SC?).
n’t be educational if that will convince more people to come, and there will be food so freeloaders are welcome. Afterward, there will be a panel discussion with Dr. Bebber, Dr. Frey, and an idiot* who is really quick to remind people that he’s president of SPECTRUM.
ith his right hand. A southpaw has to be a little ambidextrous: I don’t always find lefties-friendly scissors and in general, most objects, devices and pretty much anything you can imagine has been made for right-handers. I don’t have a problem with that; we only represent (about) 10% of the population after all. I can never read the label on a pen from the moment I’m writing with it, but really, I don’t mind. My mouse is running on the right hand side of my computer, fair enough. So apart from the problem of cups, I have no problem with my condition. Cups? Imagine a cup on which you have a drawing. You take it, with your right hand, and you’re really happy because you can see the drawing. I grab the handle with my left hand, and all I am confronted with is that blank, plain, dull side of the cup. Oh yeah you never thought about that.


