I'd like to start out by saying that I initially approved of this site's title, Collegiate Hypocrisy, because I thought it sounded catchy. Now I like the title because I can relate to it. Nay, I feel as though I'veearned the right to post under its masthead. Today, I proved myself the biggest collegiate hypocrite I know (out of my limited circle of college student acquaintances). I received the assignment for a 4-6 page research paper for my IS class* about two weeks ago. I know, I know. 4-6 pages for a research paper? That's nothing! That's only long enough for an introduction and half of a half-assed initial argument. At any rate...I procrastinated. Although I'm a writing major and professed lover of the word, most of my classes this year have been discussion-based. This is the first writing intensive class I've had at Wartburg. Also...this paper is the first paper I've been assigned all year that requires scholarly sources (my English essays last term relied solely on the text I read and my quirky interpretation skills). Hence, my procrastination. My conference with my IS professor to go and look through and over my paper is tomorrow afternoon. When taking things into consideration--I'm a writing major, my class is about humor studies, the paper is relatively short, and I have so much leeway with my topic choice--the assumption is that I'd have already written the entire thing and polished it off. That's the assumption I came to forty seconds ago when I hastily discarded my identity to get a third person's point of view, anyway. Wrong, man on the street! I spent my time very carefully, avoiding the paper in a very delicate series of steps: Friday: Assure myself that I'm going to start the paper on Saturday. Saturday: Work from 11-2, when the library is only open until 4. Ignore remaining 2 hours that it's open. Sunday: Finally decide on a very broad topic. Gather a few broad sources. Monday: Narrow in on topic. ....that's it. Then we come to Tuesday. T-minus 24 hours until writing conference Tuesday. All day I tarried, putting such nonsensical obligations as classes, tests, and work in front of my paper writing obligation. I sat in Duos (a lovely local coffee shop) for two hours evaluating my sources. At 6 o'clock, I went to work, where I had ninety minutes of free time to write my first draft. I did not write my first draft. I wrote a thesis statement, one unnecessary paragraph, two necessary paragraphs full of _______s where I simply couldn't think of a good word to use, and two outlines that I eventually scribbled into nonexistence. As I packed up the non-fruits of my halfhearted labor and headed downstairs to the Konditorei (campus's lovely coffee shop), I bemoaned the fact that I had a paper to write. I thought savagely about how I am much better at class discussions and speaking in sentence fragments. Between the intonation of my voice and my insane usage of hand gestures and non-verbals, I'd make a great public figure (except for the part where I'd have to spew BS to my listeners). That was when Hypocrisy Moment #1 hit: There I was, the writing major. Not only procrastinating my paper (that's normal), but nearly refusing to write it. I think I was actually starting to refuse that I had the ability to write papers, actually. Wow. Hypocrite. Hypocrisy Moment #2 is a little more humorous--I spent ninety minutes at work trying [failing] to write my paper. I work in the Writing Reading Speaking Lab, a division of Student Services that aids students in homework help, primarily with paper revisions and help. Yes. I work four days a week helping students to write and revise academic papers. I'm pretty good at my job. And tonight I was denying myself both the ability of writing papers and the ability to enjoy it. Hypocrite. Before today, I thought that Collegiate Hypocrisy was catchy and unique, and therefore worthy of my blogging. Now, I feel humble and worthy to lay my words down under the banner that I truly deserve. ...I started the paper, by the way. It's not half bad. |
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