Merit to being more like Lisa than Bart
Although I realize this may be hard to believe, I've never skipped a class
in my three years of university.
I've made it through bouts of the flu, massive snowstorms and three hour-long, droning sermons on the validity of Russian dramatist Anton Chekhov, just to support my weird habit.
It's strange, but true I actually like attending lectures. This unusual admission stems from several different factors.
The first of these is my quest for independent understanding of the material that is being taught. Yes, I know many professors post lecture notes online and simply printing them off at home after sleeping in until 1 p.m. would be far easier than trekking all the way to University College for that Renaissance Literature lecture. However, I need more than a simple outline of a few concepts to truly make me understand and care about the material I am supposed to be learning. It is imperative for me to entirely understand class-material, and lecture notes that were not written by me will most likely not be enough to achieve this.
Another reason I've never missed a class is my excessive paranoia that I may miss something extremely important in that one lecture that I decide to skip in lieu of going to Lucy's, having tea and gossiping with my friends.
I realize that each class has a syllabus that outlines what will apparently go on in each class, but what if this changes? I am just not willing to risk that just to do something that I'd be able to do any old time.
Going to class puts those fears to rest and, even though I may sleep in that lecture about Shakespeare's Henry V, I can sleep soundly knowing that I'm not missing anything earth-shakingly important.
Skipping is also not an option for me because I have too much respect for most of my professors to haphazardly miss their lectures. I realize how much time and effort goes into the planning of a lecture, and how frustrating and disappointing it must be to realize that their time and effort is not being respected by the very people that they're working so hard for.
Lastly, I know how much I paid to be here. Therefore, each time I feel the temptation to skip a class, I simply conjure up a mental picture of me throwing $40 of my hard-earned money into the garbage. Doesn't make much sense, does it? Not to me.
I fully realize that classes aren't the be-all and the end-all of a truly well-rounded university experience, but they are central to a good university education. And the last time I checked, that's exactly what I was here for. After reading this, maybe you'll think twice about what you could be missing the next time you consider skipping a class.
Then again, maybe it's just Lisa Simpson and I alone on this lonely plateau
of semi-dorky principles.
Editor's note: This is not a work of fiction. Maggie is a real person.