The Ol’ Switcheroo

O

kay, when is a Wednesday not a Wednesday? When it’s a Monday. Like today. The particular school I teach at runs on a very peculiar schedule. Post-WWII through the 80s, the institute focused on graduate studies–particularly those in government. There are a number of well known figures who have earned a degree here as they worked in Government, perhaps former Secretary of State Colin Powell (MBA) being the most prominent. So the school schedule of operation was geared toward these professional who worked and studied.

As a result, there are many evening classes–my film class is in the evening from 7:10 to 9:40. And there are even more classes that are held only once a week. This is to accomodate those working graduate students who cannot be on campus 24/7. As you all know, many holidays–MLK, Presidents day–are observed on Mondays, and classes that meet only once a week on Mondays get an excessive number of days off. Man, I know that if I was a student, I’d look for those Monday classes. BUT, to prevent these kinds of shenanigans, the final week of school boasts no Wednesday but two Mondays. This is to make up for the extra holidays.

Of course, this means nothing to me, because my J-Lit in Translation class meets on Monday and Wednesday. The thing is–and this is what really makes this school’s schedule peculiar–my class meets at two different hours: Monday 2:20-3:35 and Wednesday 3:55-5:10. This is to accomodate the dearth of classrooms on campus, I’m told (but I’m not buying it). Now, I mentioned very clearly on Monday that this Wednesday was a Monday so class will meet at 2:20 and NOT 3:55.

Anyone wanna bet that at least one student will say, “Oh, sensei, I forgot. I went to class at 3:55 and NO ONE WAS THERE.” Oh well, maybe I should be the one who forgets. “Oh I’m sorry, little ones. I forgot that today was Monday!” I’m sure my students will not complain too loudly…

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