Syllabus week

My long awaited, first week of classes at LSE was... anti-climactic. I started the week with exceedingly high expectations. I somehow assumed that as a masters student I could bypass the boring, administrative discussions that come with "syllabus week." False. Readings, assignments, and grading rubrics are unavoidable at every level of education, regardless of the location. I don't know why I thought it should be any other way...all of that information is essential on a first meet and greet with new professors at a new school. I guess I was just ready for full throttle, mind blowing intellectual rigor. I won't bore you with the information that was disbursed in these first lectures, but I will share one particularly unique encounter I had during syllabus week at LSE....

Approximately five minutes into my first lecture, one student ferociously shot her hand into the air (probably dislocating her shoulder in the process) to interrupt my lecturer and say, "I am a native English speaker of over 6 decades and I cannot understand a SINGLE WORD you are saying. Since this is an international institution (and many of the students here speak English as their second language) I'd suggest that you slow down." I was absolutely appalled but also perversely entertained... the professor swallowed his pride and instead of going on an indignant rampage, humbly admitted that he was always easily excitable on his first lecture. I realized right then and there in that stuffy, cramped lecture theatre that LSE is an entirely different institution than Dickinson College. The kids here are more self confident (a euphemistic understatement if ever there was one), and the classes are bigger... in fact, the whole vibe is just different. If that poor lecturer's experience is any indication of life at LSE for these highly accomplished intellectuals, I hope rapid Darwinistic evolution takes place so that they can all acquire the saintly patience needed to deal with the larger than life egos of their students.