Decision Points and the Un-Cola

Last night, the nightcap of my Wednesday class doubleheader was called early. Was it rain, you may ask? Nay. New Venture Initiation is held indoors in a brand new building, and canceling the session on account of internal precipitation would force students to question the advent of the apocalypse, much less the integrity of the architectural design. No, class at 8:10 PM ended no later than 8:27 PM when our professor’s scheduled guest speaker was a no show.

An entire period’s agenda: WIPED OUT.

From the view of the professor, this could erupt into a complete calamity without a swift course of action. Due to an outside problem (the guest speaker was sitting in her stalled Buick on I-395), this leader of students now has to come up with a contingency plan and fast. The guest speaker in a graduate school setting is like the professor phoning it in. Let someone else instruct the great minds of tomorrow while you sit in the back row with your legs up on the desk and daydreaming that you could be watching the new episode of Lost instead of “working hard for the money.”

From the view of the student, this is also a crossroads. Learning is a priority, sure, otherwise you would not have enrolled in grad school. But the possibility of having school canceled because the aforementioned prof was caught off-guard is just as an attractive an option. Did I mention rain earlier? Hell, this would be a regular snow day. And in a week preparing for Oscar Party III, I wouldn’t mind in the least if we were dismissed 93 minutes early.

This is a possibility because we all have free will to come and go as we please. When class is over, the school day is over. The professor knows that his decision to teach or to cancel will directly determine how much school is left on this cold, windy Wednesday. This is why I nearly jumped out of my seat when he threw his hands up in helplessness and announced:

Class is over.

But what if this had been elementary school? I’m not saying that elementary school teachers brought in guest speakers or phoned it in, but rather I am pointing out the different circumstances. Imagine if Mrs. Hammer in 5th grade just dismissed us at 11am? 18 kids would meander their way home with little sense of direction or actual chance of making it before their little legs tired out. That’s why they had contingency plans: in-class games.

There is one game that sticks out in my mind as being a classroom activity that definitely beat playing in traffic trying to find my house. Here’s a memory-lane recap. (And a secret hope that my professor is reading and will schedule it for next week.)

7-UP – This was the kid brother of Mafia. 7 kids go up to the front of the class. Everyone else puts their head down on the desk, with their thumb in the air. The Secret 7 then walk around the room and press down one thumb each, with as much stealth and secrecy as a 10 year-old can muster, and then return to the front of the room. When everyone’s back up front, everyone else wakes up and tried to guess who (if anyone) gave their thumb a smackdown. Guess right? You go up front. Guess wrong? Stay where you are, and give whoever you guessed paranoia about why you think they picked you.

This game freakin’ ruled.

You know what? Forget Oscar Party III. We’re just playing a 7-Up marathon. Good night, and good luck. Heads down. Thumbs up.