Andrew Pantazi’s pseudo-rant Tuesday regarding UF’s less-than-stellar faculty choices really resonated with me, though he probably put it a lot more nicely than I would have.
A university is an institution that facilitates learning, is it not?
So why is it I find myself dozing off, unable to pay even an inch of attention as Name Unimportant, Ph.D., drones on about topics I can easily grasp by skimming a secondhand textbook I picked up for $30 while my meager earnings are dispersed into the university and into Dr. So-and-So’s pockets?
Sitting through lecture after lecture for years on end is something we all take part in, so shouldn’t there be some element that sets our professors apart from any one of us?
To me, that element is experience. Whether it be working 10 years in a drug addiction clinic or being the addict sitting in Narcotics Anonymous meetings night after night, it’s the experience and the knowledge that you walk away with that truly matters.
It makes no difference to me what prestigious establishments the professors here might or might not have graduated from.
I don’t know what anyone else in the Student Body thinks, but as long as an individual exhibits a profound and unique understanding of the subject material, whether it be from attending countless symposiums and doing extensive research or from simply living, that individual should be qualified enough to relay this information to others.
If any one of you have ever begrudgingly slumped in your chair, grumbling “I could have taught this course better than this joker!” you’re probably right.
The army of teachers’ assistants might be articulate and knowledgeable, but they better have something more to tell me than “Hey, this is Chapter 1, let me break it down for you in case you forgot how to read.”
We’d all rather hear about the time you were in that shady place with those sketchy people and ended up learning a valuable lesson about economics and sociology.
The next time you find yourself mindlessly doodling over your professor’s PowerPoint notes or checking your Facebook frantically, praying one of your friends might sign on and save your sanity, ask yourself this: Why is it I’m sitting here, struggling to scribble down a definition I can find verbatim in my textbook?
One’s worth and potential to teach is not defined by the few letters that follow their name on the syllabus.
Editor's note: This letter refers to this column.
