When I was in college part of my Liberal Arts education included taking all those pointless general education requirements. You know the ones. Even if we were quite certain we’d have no use for anthropology anywhere in our life, it seemed a better option than any other “science” requirement, and therefore was the most popular. I failed it. Not because I didn’t understand it, but because it was an 830am class on a Friday.
I actually just barely squeaked by based on the grades I got in all those gen-ed classes that were supposed to help in making each student “well-rounded.” I strongly felt I didn’t need them, and being the hard-headed and defiant girl of 19, I made sure to show my displeasure with the system by either not showing up, or falling asleep in the classes to which I did go. Fight the man and you will be put on academic probation; a place where I sat comfortably for the majority of college.
However, there was one gen-ed course I took that, despite my thoughts on the matter at the time, actually came in handy shortly after college: Introduction to Business. Again, I chose this particular class from whatever category in which it resided, because it seemed the easiest. Although I scoffed at the idea of ever going into any sort of business – I’m pretty sure my monthly invoices I send out to editors don’t count – I thought I could at least pass it. It was at the point in my college career where I just needed to pass my gen-ed requirements so I wouldn’t be kicked out of school. The university didn’t seem to care what my GPA in my major was.
Again, I squeaked by; sometimes showing up to class, sometimes not. I didn’t even buy all the necessary books for the course because I figured it was a waste. When the final paper rolled around the topic was “How I’d Be A Great Business Owner.” It was, I’m assuming, supposed to cover all the things we had learned in the past semester, but being the asshole, privileged, I’ll “do what I want” kid, I couldn’t answer that question. Not only had my spotty attendance record contributed to this lack of knowledge, but I knew I’d be a shitty business owner; in fact, I’d be the worst business owner in the history of the world. So, once again, feeding off my incessant defiance and my issues with authority, I decided I’d change the assignment. I wrote my paper on how I’d be a horrible business owner and all the reasons why.
I got an A. Apparently, it was a convincing enough argument.