Professors deserve great respect
Teachers have own personalities, own life outside university setting

By Jack Bullion
Skiff Editorial Writer

It’s mid-February, and if you’re not totally stressed out by now, you’re probably either saying one of two things:

“I’m a freshman!” (Don’t worry, your time is coming.) or

“What do you mean, second semester?”

These are the times that try students’ souls, turn them into simpering whiners, and/or cause them to commit heinous acts of vandalism to school property. Even more disheartening is the realization that every subsequent month leading up to early May is going to be exactly like this. It’s the time of year when breathing room and free time are in short supply, if there’s any to be had at all.

Most of us have to schedule around the tons of homework we have. I’ve personally reverted to my high school ways, saving Sunday as the day to get work done. Not the best of ideas, especially since I also have to write a thoroughly wonderful column for this thoroughly wonderful paper on top of all my class work. Did I mention I love my job?

The temptation in this situation is to blame the people who gave us all the work in the first place: that’s right, our professors.

Oh, these people just can’t have souls, can they? They show a blatant disregard for all the other things we have going on in our lives. They won’t let us retake that quiz we bombed because we were up late finishing a paper for another class. They won’t let us negotiate that bad grade on the term paper. They always keep us a couple minutes later than they’re supposed to. And they’re stupid. They make dumb points about dumb subjects that we don’t care about. They try to force their outrageous opinions and politics on us.

It’s easy to get mad at professors. I’ve lost count of the number of times that I’ve heard angry mumbles from people behind me in class, who stop short of threatening actual bodily harm on one of their teachers. But I’ve never been able to muster enough anger for a professor myself. That’s not to say I haven’t ever questioned a professor’s opinion or timing on assignments. But I just can’t get too mad at these people, no matter how much money I have to pay to put up with them.
Why do I have such a mild opinion of my professors, no matter how belligerent and annoying they might get? Well, it’s probably due to the fact that I spent the first 18 years of my life living with one.

My father is a professor himself, at the University of Missouri back home. But far from me to actually guess what being a “professor” meant for about the first 10 years of my life. I lived under the delusion that basically the job meant going to these things called “faculty parties” every once in a while and coming home from them reeking of “beer.” And, in case any of you kids were wondering, there are some faculty out there who, given the chance, could drink you under the table.

Gradually I began to discover that Dad’s job involved more than schmoozing or bringing home documents in weird, old handwriting to study under our antiquated 1970s microfiche machine. It became apparent that my dad was a glorified elementary school teacher, but one who taught stuff I couldn’t even begin to understand. What didn’t become apparent to me was just how busy Dad could get. Sometimes I really feel awful for all those times that I badgered him to watch Looney Tunes with me when he was grading papers or doing research.

But he always did. He would snap at me a little bit, but always gave in. “Duck, Rabbit, Duck” with Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck is pretty hard to resist. Time with his family was more important than any student paper or exam to grade. Even when he became chairman of the history department at Missouri a couple of years ago, which is an admittedly high-stress job, he’d always make a little time every Sunday afternoon to fall asleep while watching the NFL. Certain things were and are sacred to the man, his job included.

Our professors, as irritating as they may get, are very human. They wake up way earlier than most of us, and are basically on call most of the day from students who need their advice and help. They grade, they consult, they deal with their colleagues and prepare themselves for classes. Then at the end of the day, most of them go home to their families. The good ones try not to let their jobs get in the way of the other things they have to deal with.

A great majority of your professors are actually really good people. They’re not normal — but would you be very normal after spending what amounts to half your adult life at a college? But do cut them a little slack. Every semester, I feel like I’ve learned something new. And it’s certainly not due to my own initiative. I like to think that those stupid assignments, tests and deadlines professors serve a greater purpose than mere annoyance.

Jack Bullion is a junior English major from Columbia, Mo.
He ca be reached at (j.w.bullion@student.tcu.edu).

Editorial policy: The content of the Opinion page does not necessarily represent the views of Texas Christian University. Unsigned editorials represent the view of the TCU Daily Skiff editorial board. Signed letters, columns and cartoons represent the opinion of the writers and do not necessarily reflect the opinion of the editorial board.

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