(Sam Heathcote -- The Beacon)
By Staff Commentary
Before I fetch my soapbox and climb up on it, let me preface with this: I am not Miss Manners. Although I do know which fork should accompany which dinner course, I didn't have a debutante ball and I grew up in a place where cowboy boots are considered dress shoes.
I have also committed some of the transgressions I am about to identify, but I like to think those instances are isolated to the bygone era of freshman naiveté. After three years at this university, I have progressively grown more aware of the unofficial UP etiquette, marked only by the lack thereof.
Picture this: you are giving a presentation in front of your class. Suddenly, the door creaks open and your disheveled professor slinks in, closing the door softly behind her. Perhaps the apologetic expression on her face is enough for you to excuse the interruption, but her subsequent behavior makes it fairly obvious that she does not want to be there. Sporting purple sweats and a mean case of bedhead, she takes a seat in the back. It becomes apparent that whoever she is not-so- subtly texting takes precedence over whatever subject you are addressing. Five minutes before class is over, she closes her notebook full of half-hearted notes and shifts impatiently in her seat. In an instant, the rest of the class follows suit. A flurry of shuffling papers, zipping backpack zippers and general hullabaloo ensues.
Hopefully, you didn't have to ponder too laboriously to understand what I'm getting at. The example is exaggerated, of course, but I hope it helps you understand what I find myself asking almost every day: If we expect our professors to uphold a certain level of professionalism and propriety, why don't we, as college students, hold ourselves to the same standards?
Perhaps it is exactly that: we are college students. We pay to go here. We like to be comfortable. We like to socialize and think of ourselves as individuals. We do what we want.
But we're also rude.
I understand that being a full-time student doesn't leave a lot of time to devote to anything but papers, reading and exams, but that doesn't mean we must throw courtesy to the wind. By making a small but concerted effort, perhaps we can change the world — or at least the atmosphere on The Bluff.
• When my uncle attended UP in the 1960s, he would iron his shirt collar and cuffs to look presentable in accordance with the now defunct dress code on The Bluff. I get that it's nice to be comfortable, especially after dragging yourself out of bed in the morning for an 8:10 a.m. class, but instead of schlepping your way to campus in your pajamas, throw on a pair of jeans.
• Try your darndest to get to class on time. It's embarrassing and disruptive, not to mention disrespectful. We all have mornings when the alarm doesn't go off or we push the snooze button a few times too many, but if it's becoming a habit, do something about it.
• When you're in class, be in class. Turn off your phone — nothing is worse than the moment when a professor stops her lecture and scans the room to see whose "Single Ladies" ringtone is reverberating off the walls. Classes are short and, I promise, you can turn your phone on when it's over.
• Keep it together until class is over. If you respect professors' time by showing up when you're supposed to show, they will most likely do the same and let you out when they need to. Packing up early and causing a scene generally doesn't speed up the lecture, and if professors go a minute or two past the official end of class, take comfort in the fact that it takes less than ten minutes to get anywhere you need to be on campus.
I'd like to reiterate that you can take this advice with a grain of salt. The four years we spend at UP are some of the freest that we will encounter before entering the real world, and you can bet that after graduation, sweats won't be kosher work attire, even on casual Fridays.
Cowboy boots, on the other hand? They're always in.
Lisa McMahan is and English and German studies major. She can be contacted at mcmahan11@up.edu
