"Deliver Me, Kafka"

I don't think I'm the only one who could see the irony. We all want more time, particularly leisure time. But I'm not looking for more time to go out and get annihilated. I want more time to read.

Did anybody miss that? I'm in college, that ivory tower where young people are supposed to sequester themselves away to better their minds in preparation for the remainder of their existence. Not only am I a college student, a learner by occupation like most of you, but I'm also an English major and I want more time to read.

I woke up this morning and reached over to the top of my dresser for a book I bought over Christmas break, "The Trial" by Franz Kafka. I read an incredible first five pages before the burden of my workload took hold. My heart sank, because I knew I probably wasn't going to fully experience Joseph K.'s transcendental outlook until after the semester was completed.

Now, I'm not going to front. I know that as an English major, the weight of my workload is hardly comparable to that of say, a bio-nuclear pharmacology major, or for that matter, a bio-nuclear pharmacology major with an outside job. But when you throw in the 25 or more hours a week I put into this publication, the scales are brought much closer to an even level.

Torturing myself over whether I should be reading for my own satisfaction or for a professor's wasn't what I had in mind. When I was a child, entering adolescence, thinking about what my sister and brother were doing in college, and what I would be doing in six years, I had a certain expectation. I thought I'd be sitting in my dorm room or apartment learning about the things I wanted. At the time, I thought that meant solving math problems and enjoying it, spending all my studious hours in full recognition that what I was doing was preparing me for the job of my dreams.

Now, I get a little sweaty when I think about my French quizzes and geology exams. I think, "Man, I've really got to work on my subjunctive and pass?(c) simple," and realize that my complete and utter lack of interest in the subject at hand is likely to cost me eligibility for a number for awards and scholarships.

Why, oh why would an English major be forced to prove fluency in a foreign language? "Well, English is a language, so ..." If you can complete that thought, stop by my office. When I was a junior in high school, 16 years of age, deciding where I wanted to go to school, finding one within driving distance of my girlfriend's school meant a lot more than really understanding the terms "liberal arts degree" and "general education requirement."

Now that I'm here, all I can do is wonder why I didn't find a college that doesn't force its students to repeat the second half of high school. English majors in biology lab, engineers taking composition writing, dogs and cats living together. It is nice knowing that I can learn to skim the surface of a wide variety of subjects while making a serious attempt to fully understand my primary language. The problem I have lies in the requirement of such skimming.

The real reasoning behind general education has to be offering students a point of reference for secondary career paths once they realize they're not smart enough for, studious enough for, or completely disinterested in the major they selected as an incoming freshman. The average college student, if you believe the advisement offices, changes his or her major two million times before graduating. Peripheral courses are most certainly to blame. Show a student who's having a hard time in introductory physics an introductory course in psychology, and they're bound to consider trading teams.

For those of us that have solidified our goals, though, it would make sense to stop forcing the exploration.