Call me Han; I'm Flying Solo

My Tuesday night course is titled “International Science and Technology.” When seeing a course title like this, one would expect a course full of how modern innovations in all fields have affected international business and how it differs from the different business strategies currently employed in the United States. And even if that doesn’t sound appealing, the fact that it’s a general requirement for my MBA discipline is. However, one thing seems strange four lectures into this semester.

The most international aspect of the course is the Swiss cheese on my mid-class sandwich.

It’s not that I’m anti-Swiss cheese. Aside from watches, chocolate, Miss, bank accounts, and the definition of fence sitter, this may be the best export those folks in Switzerland have come up with (even if 15-20% are missing due to big freakin’ holes.) No, my grievance is actually with the course, which has yet to mention anything outside of the United States. I’m not concerned to the point of raising my hand about it. That’s like volunteering to stand in the way of a hockey puck coming off of Jeremy Roenick’s stick.

Make that 34 hockey columns.

And while I sit there in a class where I only speak when spoken to, I realize that this is unlike any grad school course I’ve encountered before. Aside from being the biggest misnomer since Melissa “Shoemaker,” there are only nine people enrolled in the class. While the numbers are small, it made dividing into groups of three for an end-of-semester project relatively easy. The professor takes the row of nine, and simply has us number off. 1, 2, 3…

From the very first class, I had an assigned group. This is a fairly important fact for my academic success, as there is a 30 page project due at the end of the semester. We exchanged contact info, and went on our ways, destined to meet again when we would one day get around to this project. Nice to meet you, Tony and Mario.

One week went by and the next class came. I didn’t think to discuss the project since Mario was in class, but Tony was not.

Two weeks went by and another class session was held. Still no Tony, and Mario was forty minutes late. We’ll postpone this meeting one more week.

Three weeks went by and neither Mario or Tony are in class. The other two groups have already started their prelim research and are reporting back to the professor at the beginning of each class. I am having trouble merely confirming my group exists.

Yesterday, I broke down and took the lead on getting this party started right (not to mention getting the very same party started quickly.) While there’s no immediate correspondence from Tony, I get the following response from Mario:

I am no longer enrolled in the class, I notified the professor a few weeks ago. – Thanks, Mario.

And Tony is clearly in this class as much as the Indians are in the playoffs. In a class of 9 people, how did I get the two who couldn’t hack it? Time to e-mail the professor.

A man is an island, but it would be nice if that island were part of an archipelago if there’s group work to do.