Registering for Spring classes is a perpetually stressful experience. Just in case the mid-semester deluge of papers, exams and self-doubt wasn’t enough, you also have to effectively plan four months’ worth of classes (assuming you’ll make it through December alive). While this process used to make me feel as though I had some aspect of my life under control, it has recently become an unavoidable and highly involved burden.
This has stemmed directly from my status as an English major taking upper-division classes. For my first two years at this lovely institution, I had no problem creating a balanced, efficient schedule. My biggest concerns were focused on making the trek from Hume Hall to Matherly Hall and whether a 10:40 a.m. class was too early. Now, I long for the days when I had no problem claiming a spot in the class I wanted or, for that matter, any class at all.
Presently, my Spring schedule only has classes on Tuesday. It’s a Tuesday from hell, packed to the brim with triple-block English classes I have minimal interest in because every single course I plan to take fills up in a matter of hours. This makes registration a particularly frustrating process, consisting mainly of me scouring ISIS for the classes I planned to take, invoking some higher being in hopes they haven’t taken too many classes and miserably crossing one course after another off my highly optimistic list.
At first, I thought this issue couldn’t have possibly been restricted to just English majors, but after talking to roommates, friends and anyone who will listen to me, I’m starting to think otherwise. I eventually mentioned my frustration in one of my English classes and unknowingly started a class-wide venting session. My poor professor served as the sole representative of the English department as all 30 of us voiced our disappointment regarding the ever-shrinking number of professors, classes and time slots.
Multiple students claimed they were forced to take off a semester because there weren’t any spots left in higher-level courses. Others questioned how we were expected to take multiple English courses a semester when they were all held at the same time. Our professor nodded her head in understanding and told us the university wasn’t hiring more professors or creating more classes because there wasn’t enough student demand. What they supposedly hadn’t considered was that this presented an academic Catch-22 (literary reference intended), as the lack of options discourages students from becoming English majors in the first place.
I’ll be the first to admit English majors are a dying breed. In a world driven by technological and capitalist advances, very few opt to enter a field characterized by constant reading and unpredictable job prospects. An English degree just doesn’t have the sex appeal it had in, I don’t know, the early 20th century. I also understand UF is one of the top research universities in the country with an increasing focus on science, technology, engineering and mathematics majors.
We’re not asking for much. Maybe a couple extra classes, some new professors, a few more seats and evenly distributed time slots. While I’d like to throw in moving our classes out of the windowless behemoth that is Turlington Hall, I realize that may be pushing it. Perhaps the students are partially at fault as well, as we’re much more likely to whine to each other instead of to administration. However, we need to take steps to change that. I understand the English department isn’t a priority, but without some sort of immediate change, UF is going to effectively drive it into the ground.
Marisa Papenfuss is a UF English junior. Her column appears on Tuesdays.
