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Spoon-feed the Underclassmen

I knew that there would be a day where I would turn to someone younger than me and say, “You know, in my time, I had to walk to school in the rain and the snow…and I had to dig my car out of a snow bank so that Buildings and Grounds could plow the streets, but we didn’t have shovels, we used our bare hands.” I never thought that this day would come so soon into my short life. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I am referring to the changes made in the curriculum at the University of Bridgeport. Now, I may be a senior, and that might just mean that I only had four years of experience here, but I think that is more than enough to judge a professor. You see, I started school at a time when your work had to be your own. You couldn’t get away with plagiarizing and quietly submit it to your school paper and hope that no one would ever find out. I mean, The Scribe may not have a huge following, but at least a consistent one. I also went to school when there was no such thing as review sheets. No. No equations. No formulas. No chemical mechanisms. Just a warning, “The exam is on Thursday.” From that, I was forced to go on, alone, cold, afraid, into a corner at the library where the carpeting is worn, and study. Do you remember that word? Study is what you do when you don’t have a review sheet, or (someone hold me down) an open book test. Yes, an open book test is when your book is open in front of your face and your exam is on your desk. Both of these are used at the same time. In my day, not only did we used to plead for extra credit, but we would justify several reasons for an exam to be open book. Our cries went to deaf ears. Some professors hand you petroleum jelly, yet in my time, my enema would be with cold water. God Bless America. I hope these students can function in the future if ever a time comes where they are not allowed to use their notes, and please, someone talk to their professors. Don’t let your children grow up to be weaklings.