Sociology: Characters Welcome

by Brendan Cavanagh

On Tuesdays and Thursdays, from 9:35 a.m. to 10:50 a.m. I participate in an incredibly aggravating, albeit highly entertaining, sociological experiment: Sociology 200. Ha, what a coincidence- NOT IRONY.

Anyway, for several weeks I would spend the entire class period scribbling notes as quick as possible, always with at least one eye on the clock, counting down the minutes til: 1. My next class; 2. Lunch; 3. My third class; and 4. My nap. 'Cause everybody who knows me understands that I love a good nap. Sometimes it's the only thing getting me out of bed in the morning.

But I digress. A couple weeks ago, I became increasingly interested in the numerous characters in my class. Their traits that used to annoy me the most were now the subject of my intense focus and pleasure. Don't get me wrong, I'm still performing quite adequately in the class, but my sole concentration now belongs to my peers. I now relish the mere two and a half hours I have in Sociology each week. As a result of my gripping ethnographic studies, by which I have played myself off as just your average Butler student in your average sociology class, I have compiled a hefty collection of notes (mostly mental) on the teacher and the students, all of whom belong on the USA network ("Characters Welcome"). Here is a sample collection of the information I have amassed thus far:

Most prominent in the class is my professor, who happens to be African-American. This is noteworthy because I've never had a black teacher before, save for my friend's mom who used to stop by my Kindergarten class every now and then to show us a thick portfolio of copies of famous works of art. The Professor is pretty darn prolix in my opinion. For instance, he's always asking us to look at the tables in his Powerpoint presentations and see what we can "glean" from them. Or he'll unintentionally speak a long-winded and informative sentence that is practically bursting at the seams with alliteration or assonance, which blows my mind every time, being as interested in language as I am. He's also got this funny way of diverting answering a question that he has to think of the answer to for a minute- he will precede his answer with a highly-inflected "UUUUMMMMMMM" before he inevitably is able to reach a conclusion.

On my right, down a couple seats sits the "Accomplished Woman." She happens to have a very pronounced opinion about everything because she's "been there," you know. Often, her "intelligence" and heated responses causes her to come off as a total bitch (side note: she actually is a total bitch). If I told her this, she would probably, predictably, reply, "Um...I DISAGREE." One day we were discussing Karl Marx's theory of socialization in the education system, and how school's, by "tracking" students in various difficulties of classes are effectively "ranking" students, thereby creating conflict between students. The Professor asked the class if this was common in anyone's schools in the past. Most kids raised their hands and proceeded to tell stories about how they were all in the "gifted" track because they were so bloody brilliant. However, no one so brazenly and irritatingly informed us of their superior, almost god-like intelligence and prodigious feats in school as the Accomplished Woman. "Um...I was in the GIFTED track because I was smarter than everyone else, and people in the lower tracks were jealous of my intelligence, and this created class conflict in school." Guess what, ? I DON'T CARE. Funnily enough, Accomplished Woman is currently hooking up frequently with my buddy across the hallway. The other night I was playing on the computer late at night in the hallway so as not to disturb my roommates, and this girl comes out of my buddy's room. We utilized the never-failing icebreaker ("Hey, you're in my [insert course, in this case Sociology] class!") before proceeding to formally introduce ourselves. She informed me that I was literally one of the FIVE people in the class she actually liked and believed to have intelligent comments. Fancy that! I played it off bashfully, making sure never to reciprocate the compliment so I don't have to be a liar. After she left, I let out a chuckle and filled in another friend of the humorous irony (not coincidence) of the situation.

Next to her is one of the few attractive girls in the class. She happens to be very good-looking, if you want to know the truth. As it happens, she too was practically deemed to be a prodigy as a young student so she's allowed to have an opinion about everything. Fortunately though, for once in my life, her attractiveness does not preclude my disagreement with anything she says. I just wanted to point that out.

Speaking of hot girls, on my left we have Specious Hot Girl. Specious Hot Girl seemed really nice and somewhat intelligent in my limited dealings with her before a couple of classes. As a result, when I saw her at a party a few weeks ago, I once again used my favorite icebreaker, "Hey! You're in my Sociology class!" three times before she finally heard me. Her response was, "Yeah." And then she walked away. Well that's okay, I didn't really have much self-confidence anyway.

Behind Accomplished Woman is the ringleader of the characters of our class, that guy who was pigeonholed as "That Guy" from Day One. That Guy not only acts ridiculously, but also his unkempt and jet-black, prominent, unshaven visage, thick glasses and unchanging outfit perfectly match his oddball comments.

Here is a picture I drew in class one day

On Day One, he decided to answer a number of questions with the fact that he went to Ivy Tech last year (down the road apiece), and was treated like an insignificant student and received no help from the teachers and faculty there. He was like a Vietnam veteran, telling us horror stories about being in The Shit and all. It was only by the saving grace that his girlfriend (who today he began referring to as his "partner" ?) came here this year that he was able to make a somewhat easy transition into our culture and academics. As a result of "being there," That Guy has the right to have the know-all, say-all answer to everything and to place himself in higher esteem than his inferior class mates. And yes, he was in the gifted track in the past, too. Incidentally, he's informed us that he is an Atheist, which we probably don't understand because we haven't received as much education as him. Oh yeah, and he had a crummy childhood, absent of "concerted cultivation," which means his parents didn't actively try to cultivate his identity and give him constructive things to learn and do, so he's pretty much a self-made man. Lastly, if the teacher hasn't come in, and the lights are off, leaving the classroom lit only by the faint sunlight gleaming in from the windows, the class likes to experience the calming effect of a dark room and leave the lights off. Not That Guy. He doesn't mind flipping the switch upon his arrival because once he's there, it's go time, folks.

And way over in the corner is G.I. Joe Schmoe. He's a little older than the rest of us because he served some time in the Army and has now returned to college to obtain his degree. He, too, has "been there" and likes to bring about some more thought-provoking questions that more often than not involve economics or politics. You know, so he can have a little adult conversation with The Professor while the rest of us sit silently and with blank stares. No big deal, he's just using our time and money, whatever. Also, he's over twenty one, so he can drink. That's cool. I like that whenever you give us examples to illustrate your inquisitive questions that persistently deal with a group of guys who spend money on beer. Neat. Not only did we just learn again that you can drink beer, but also you treated us to a little lesson in economics. I'm so glad I signed up for your class.

Thankfully, on my right, exposed to all of these characters is my buddy from another class. We've formed a friendship based on our short-lived Tuesday Starbucks trips, whereby we would discuss our mutual distaste for the more brazen and irritating class mates in both of our shared classes. It's nice to have someone to look at and share a knowing smirk with during Sociology who, too, is drowning in a pool of antipathy. However, it gets kind of old watching him text on his phone or surf Facebook for the entire duration of class, only to look up in order to copy someone's notes or look at me with an audible, exasperated sigh. Who can you be texting at 9:30 in the morning? What do you talk about? Incidentally, today in class as I was pondering the aforementioned queries, his laptop belted out, "You've got MAIL!" which made me smile. Sweet, sweet retribution. It's also interesting to watch as his self-grooming becomes increasingly spare, and his appearance becomes shaggier and more pajama-oriented. It seems like college is just a bore for him, and his interest in it appears to wane at the same rate as his interest in his appearance.

Similarly, my friend The Cross Country Runner, if he shows up, displays a distaste for classes in general. He sits a couple rows in front of Specious Hot Girl. Usually one can find him sleeping or agitatedly slumping over his desk with his face on his fist. You see, he has cross country practice at 6:00 in the morning, so by 9:35 he's pretty exhausted. He's a nice guy, but he's just so apathetic. On some of the days that he actually shows up to class, he's informed me that he'll fill his ever-present opaque Gatorade bottle with a mixture of hard liquor and beer- "Whatever gets me through class haha."

And then behind him we have Spoon River. I call this girl Spoon River because every single time she opens her mouth, it's like listening to a recitation of Spoon River Anthology. Whenever she answers a question, which is quite often because she, too, was in the "gifted" track in years past, she relates to us several detailed stories involving the lives of her parents, grandparents, cousins, store clerks, grain farmers, soda jerks, movie theater ushers and charismatic musically-inclined con men that have passed through her small town to illustrate her point. I don't mind her answering questions often-sometimes I need some time to think of what I'll say- but the countless stories of her small town bore me to death.

It's interesting what this type of class does to bring out the character in all of us. For instance, because it's a rather populated (populated for a Butler classroom, probably twenty five students) morning class, hardly anyone but the accomplished women have the courage or the warmed-up vocal cords to speak as naturally as the would in conversation outside of class, or at least in a class later in the day. Therefore, everyone sounds eerily similar to D-Day in Animal House when they muster up the gumption to shyly pose a decent answer to The Professor's question. I myself am guilty of this- I always have been for some inexplicable reason. But that's about the extent of my outstanding individuality in that class. No, I don't think I am just oblivious to my own distinct traits or simply self-righteous (to an extent). I mean, if it's especially interesting that I consistently offer somewhat insightful, fact-based answers, then yeah, I guess I'm a character, too. At the very least, I'm the only one in the class with a pair of low-top red cons.