Back-Row Student

Monday, I went to visit my son Travis in Jonesboro. In addition to his various and sundry other activities, he’s also teaching a few History classes as an adjunct at Arkansas State University. I’m sure he’s doing the adjunct teaching because the pay is so ridiculously high. Not.

Anyway, I went to classes with him, but contrary to my usual modus operandi, I went all the way to the back and sat in a corner, against the wall. Then, of course, I proceeded to listen to his lessons. In one class, he taught about the U.S. Constitution and in the other about urbanization in 19th century America. I found both classes really interesting. Travis knows what he’s talking about, he’s passionate about his subject, and he’s witty. He kept me thinking, and even though I was familiar with both subjects, I could never predict exactly what he would say next. It was great. But it was SO hard to just sit there, quiet in the back, saying nothing.

It’s not that I wanted to teach the class, either. It’s that I really love being a student. I like to sit on the front row, take notes, raise my hand, and take part in classroom conversations. I'm weird that way. I’ve always absolutely loved to learn, and although I’m happy with my choice, I think I could have been content in several disciplines.

That kid over in the other corner with his ipod earplugs in doesn’t even know what he was missing.