I'm sitting here in my last class of my second semester of grad school. It is boring as ever. Prof. P comes in every day, with no shoes on, scratching his 70-yr-old head. He is a genius. Bonafide genius. Crazy passionate about the subject (which happens to be the most boring subject on the planet - Assessment Design). Can't remember any of our (eight) names. One class he told us to bring nameplates so we all made them right then out of scrap paper. My classmate, who likes Hello Kitty, got called Katie one time, so I made a nameplate for her named "Kitty" (sounds like Katie). From that point on, it's stuck. Her's is the only name he remembers (and now mine by association). He calls all the Chinese people in class "The Chinese," and seems completely unaware of how complete not P.C. that is. Until one of those classmates responded with an eye-roll and "My name is June..."
One day he got a phone call during class and answered, putting it on speakerphone. It was his wife, who is another (genius) professor here at the Linguistics department. We all listened as she embarrassingly discovered she was on speaker phone with all of us listening. He took her off speaker phone and told us he would pay for it later.
During class he often makes notes about his Powerpoint (and I use his loosely here because he acts like it is the first time he has seen the PPT every time he pulls it up to start class; also he admitted that his wife made them one time). He will narrate the notes as he writes them down, "Make a change to slide 45 about..." as we wait.
How can someone be so passionate about test design? It is beyond me. He has created the most elaborate, complicated, convoluted website to design tests. And will frequently exclaim, "Isn't this the most genius thing you have ever seen?" We usually respond with big eyes and blank stares. "This is revolutionary!" Blank stares, again. "You are some of the only people on the planet that know this!" Blank stares yet again. "You will be able to get any job on the planet after this class!" Blankest of stares. "We are the FIRST ones to design something like this!" Big eyes. Of course, the rest of the lecture is littered with swear words and curses under his breath (and sometimes loudly).
Last week we went into his office to meet about our final project, per his request. There was no one in there, but as he opened the door, jazz music was playing. Five pairs of shoes strewn upon the floor (but none on his feet). A jar of dog food on the shelf (but no dog). And a glamour picture of his wife, white hair blowing in the wind. Below the picture were the following quotes (which I obviously wrote down because I was so touched that this gruff man loved his wife so much):
A guiding light,
That shines in the night,
Heaven’s gift to me.
If civilization fails,
If the world ends,
I’ll still know what God meant,
If I’m with her.
He just surprised our class with pizza from Papa John's. There were only eight slices, so he didn't get a piece. After apologetically all taking one and leaving him none, he responded, "I'm past the age where I need pizza in my life."
We have not received one grade the entire semester, so I don't know whether I'll get a D or an A. And he assigns up to five assignments a week, half or none of which we have to do (and keep in mind he doesn't tell us which ones are which). The reading he assigns is long and boring, and he assures us that we don't actually have to read it because "it's really confusing" (although it is all stuff he wrote).
Simultaneously infuriating and yet totally endearing, all at the same time. Prof. P, you & your quirks have broken my six-month blogging drought & are going down in history for it. xox
