My college life would be better if my instructors were characters in a sitcom. They could teach with laughter in the background. My English teacher could stop outside the classroom and the audience would cheer before she would enter. Instead of talking about proper grammar and commas we could have politically incorrect banter, and we could insult each other over a hot cappuccino. It would be a humorous learning environment. My teachers’ degree status would be less important than the amount of Emmys they have under their belt. Perhaps, my education could run a few seasons making television history. My instructors could sell us breaks in thirty second time slots.
My college life would be better if my instructors were Democrats and Republicans in a fiery political rivalry. They could tell lies about what they are teaching and then lie some more. They could force their views down our throats and never go through with a single plan ever. We could plan out our next war together; the plan would be so fantastic. How many young people can we kill today? We could bomb a third world nation. We could divert funds from my tuition into the defense fund, we could use the same money to finance the 2016 election’s morning donuts created by a celebrity chef, and we could use the same funds toward financing weird things like research on whether or not other students eat pop rocks before exams. It would be such fun, don’t you think? Oil lobbyists could design our curriculum based on the needs of the oil industry. Academics could be based on the needs of big business. Big tobacco could load us up with free samples of cigarettes. We could trade our education for some casual lung cancer.
My college life would be better if my instructors were harlequins in a blue period painting from Pablo Picasso. The Venus of Urbino could teach me Math, the Mona Lisa could teach me Art History, and English could be taught by the poet and artist, William Blake. It would be a visual experience like no other. My instructors could have a soundtrack of 60s oldies and 80s glam rock. Can you picture Slash from Guns N’ Roses delivering me knowledge of comma usage through some intense Les Paul Riffs? The sad and twisted post-traumatic stress syndrome art of Max Beckmann would feel even more depressing with the classic 60s ballad, The Kiss. Art History’s appeal to me would only increase. My Instructors could also bake their lessons. We could have persuasive essay black forest pie. Essays would never taste quite as good as they would with a touch of cinnamon and pie spice. We could make beef the same way they did in the Renaissance with E coli and the black plague included as a bonus. We could get extra credit just for taste testing. Learning would be such a tasty delight. It has been stated that we learn better when we use the five senses. Imagine if I could touch the Creation of Adam painting by Michelangelo? Yes . . . Yes . . . I know! My Art History teacher would have to go to prison for stealing a masterpiece, but it would be so worthy if an instructor can just teach one student successfully, right? What if literature could be smelled with the reading? We could smell the Middle Ages in a textbook. It would make book learning even more appealing to get “the works” in a book. Body odor, spoiled food, and decay of war would assist in making it harder to forget the lesson being taught.
My college life would be better if my instructors didn’t need to teach me anything at all. This would mean I already got my degree out of a cereal box. Duh! Perhaps, I was already born with the knowledge of how to do digital art on a computer. I would not have anyone to thank any longer. My coworkers could just thank me for how naturally awesome I am. I could start up my Mercedes and go to my mansion because I would already be educated; therefore, I would also already be rich. I could express myself masterfully with the written word academically, and MLA and APA writing would be second nature to me. Einstein would have nothing on me. I could recite the history of mankind. We could meet at a school not to be instructed, but to taste champagne and wine from California, New York, and France. We could discuss politics, religion, and culture just because we could. The classroom could have the NFL network playing in High Definition instead of a chalkboard or a smart board because what else would a classroom be needed for. My college instructors would not have to teach any longer because they would be my peers also naturally born with knowledge. There would no longer be third world nations because everyone would be intensely intelligent. My children could wake up and choose one of the two hundred languages they could speak for a given day. We could celebrate Christmas by speaking Cantonese. Easter would not be the same without ancient Latin.
My college life would be better if my instructors only knew how important they actually are. Without them I would continue to be a player in the lower middle class. I would be the slave of a dictator or king. I would not want to read a classic or explore a museum. I probably would not be able to read at all. Teachers have a thankless job, but without them the world would stop moving forward. Anarchy would be the lawless law of the land. There is a quote that states: “You can’t be king of the world if you are slave to the grind.” Without an education that is all we can ever be. Teachers have the hardest job on earth and we cannot improve in society or our future without an education. I may not like every teacher I have, but I cannot get better in life without an education. My college life might be better with the entire exaggerated jest that I mentioned in prior paragraphs, but my actual life would not be better. I cannot criticize my instructors because I am not their equal at present. If I was, I would not be needing education. Unfortunately, I do need knowledge, and knowledge is power. I cannot criticize my teachers because I need them. The only thing I can legitimately do . . . Is give thanks to my teachers. Without teachers, we would live like the children in Lord of the Flies. Children do not recognize the needs of law or boundaries of society. Without teachers, we are nothing. I am nothing.