One week of classes is now officially over. We started on a Tuesday and I have come back to Tuesday. One week ago, after days of Questing and orientation and having fun with newfound friends, we all assembled in the gymnasium of the fieldhouse for Convocation and were welcomed to Calvin as the class of 2015. The ceremony was short and sweet, and there was a barbecue on the Commons lawn. But not for me, not right away. I had class.
History class. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Friday. 10:30. My professor is a small man who opened class the first day by showing us pictures of airports and, after about 20 pictures of "What do you see here?" finally explained that the purpose was to show us how much information is involved in every instant of time, and how impossible it would be to go back and recreate any one event. His teaching style sometimes feels like he makes it up as he goes along, like he is less teaching than musing, and asking us to share in his ponderings. I like him.
Calculus 2. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Friday. 11:30. My most challenging class, the homework assignments take upward of three to four hours a day to complete. The professor is a good teacher, passionate about the subject and careful to show every step of his examples. But the class itself is hard. Very hard. As I sit in his lectures, I follow ever step of every problem he demonstrates. But when I sit in my room with my homework open, I stare at problems that I don't know how to solve, or spend twenty minutes or more working through integrals that take me sometimes five or six steps and ten or so lines on my paper to solve. I'm so glad I bought a whiteboard. It helps me organize my thoughts to see the problems laid out coherently on a plain white board in black ink, with no lines to work around and no eraser marks to deal with when I inevitably mess up.
Engineering 101. Monday, Wednesday, Friday. 8:00 The easiest class in my schedule. I am convinced that Calvin's first semester of engineering is designed to give students a false sense of confidence about the subject and their ability to master it. The textbook so far has given us study tips, told us how to take good notes, told us to be confident and goal-oreiented, and to be realistic about time management. We haven't yet learned engineering. We've been learning how to learn engineering, or any subject for that matter. Most of the textbook would apply to any subject (and in fact I've been utilizing some of its suggestions in my history and philosophy classes). Professor Hoeksema (my one Dutch professor) is competent and funny and engaging. The workload is light, the studying easy, and the class enjoyable. We've been assigned a project to make bottle rockets! :D
Philosophy. Monday, Wednesday, Friday. 9:00. Professor Mellema walks in at precisely nine o'clock, walks to the blackboard, writes PHIL-153F, PROFESSOR MELLEMA without once glancing towards the room full of students, slowly turns towards us and says, "I am Professor Mellema and this is Philosophy 153" as though he had not just written it on the chalkboard. He then proceeded to take attendance using only our last names. I could not get over the fact that balding Professor Mellema, with is round belly and thinning gray hair, was exactly what I had pictured when I had pictured a stereotypical college professor. It made me want to laugh, which I would have been far too intimidated to actually do. Since the first day he's begun to exhibit signs of possessing a sense of humor, which is encouraging. The class itself is not difficult and rather interesting. I believe I'll end up liking it.
Engineering 181. Thursdays. 8:30. Our three hour engineering lab is going to be fun! We get to play with computers for three hours a week and get credit for it. Professor Brauer is a quiet, competent professor who opened with a Bible reading and a word of prayer, and seems interested in learning our names (actually, both of my engineering profs opened with a word of prayer and gave us cardstock nametags to place on our tables so we could begin learning one another's names). He taught us a bit about the program AutoCAD and then gave us three drafting assignments to finish before the next class in a week. I stayed a bit after class was over and got them all done that day.
ROTC. PT: Monday, Wednesday, Friday. 6:00, now 6:30. Lab and class: Tuesday. 2:00-5:00PM. What to say? Thirty pounds of gear in my closet. Trip to Kalamazoo to pick up uniforms today. Three mornings of PT so far. Sore, tired, out of shape. Piles of daunting paperwork that makes me feel like I'm signing away my life and freedoms. A chain of command full of terms I only half understand. Identity crisis. Who am I? How do I address my fellow cadets? How do they address me? What am I? A civilian, a cadet, a uniformed soldier? A support group. Someone to turn to. Older guys who treat me like a younger sister. Respect. Feeling ridiculous marching and chanting in cadence. Trying to keep up. Falling down. Arms giving out. So tired. Showering in a hurry to make it to class. Arms shaking too much to put on mascara. Missing breakfast three mornings a week. Sharing in mutual misery. Laughing together. Sweating. Shivering. Blistered hands. Blistered feet. Army strong.
One week down. One week of one semester of one year at Calvin College. I can't believe one week is over. But it doesn't feel like only a week. Time for class.
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