New school...

Tomorrow, I will take my last final of my first semester at my new school.

After graduating- with honors- with my Associate of Science degree in April, I was accepted to a well-known university. I was so excited. After I got my acceptance letter, I cried for a few hours. My fiance probably thought I was mentally unbalanced and that he had made a poor choice in hitchin' his horse up to this wagon.

I spent the next (what seemed like) forever giddily anticipating myentry into my new school. However, as the weeks passed, I got nervous... Then scared... Then flat out terrified. I was worried I wouldn't fit in, that I wasn't smart enough, that I wouldn't make any friends.

And I was absolutely right. The first day of class, one of the other students asked a question so involved that I literally didn't even understand it. Not surprisingly, I dropped that class immediately. Which left me no leeway to drop anymore classes and still maintain my necessary-for-financial-aid full-time status.

The last new class wasn't until the next week... The professor stood in front of us and very honestly told us that only very specific students should stay in the class. The teacher even singled out students who were not at least Junior status as people who might want to consider dropping before it was too late. I stayed in. First because I am stubborn. I won't be having anyone tell me to drop a class because I am not qualified to take it. A teacher tried that in high school. I aced his class. Secondly, the class is required for my major and I wanted to jump in with both feet. Last, but not least, I COULDN'T drop it. School's expensive and I can't afford to pay anymore for it than I already am.

As class progressed, it became very obvious to me that I was in trouble. I got an A on my first test, but barely passed the second... I did even worse on the third. I drove home crying after that one.

I am very fortunate to have many people who thing I am pretty awesome (and they are right). Not least of these is a former professor of mine who is always happy to return a ranting email or text message and even welcomes me back to his class when I have the time to sit in. He is wonderful. And brilliant. Truly a boon to the educational system as a whole. So, when I send him messages telling him how poorly I am doing, I get plenty of positive reassurance that I am fine....

.... Which means the professor is the problem.

Meanwhile, I realized I was struggling in another class, a class that is a lower level class and needed for my other major. However, this class I still enjoyed. I didn't mind doing poorly in there.

And I think I know why. I am kinda sexist and kinda racist.

You see, the teacher of that second class is a man. And foreign. The teacher in the other is a white woman.

I know I prefer male teachers over female. I don't really know why, I just always have. Maybe it's because my kindergarten teacher was a man. Regardless, I like them better.

Also, with him being foreign, I was able brush off my failures in his class as just a difference in how he teaches and how he learns. I am not a bad student, he is not a bad teacher, I just learn differently than he teaches and vice versa.

Perhaps because I can SEE that he and I are so different, I am better able to distinguish where my educational deficiency in his class lies. Because she is a white woman, like me, I have a harder time convincing myself that maybe- just maybe- she teaches differently than I learn.

Ultimately, she and I recently had an opportunity to talk and I really like her. I am even taking another of her classes next semester and I am looking forward to it. She has also informed me that the situation may not be as dire as it appears and that I can safely hope for a B in her class. It's not the As I am used to, but it is better than the D I was afraid I would be seeing on my report card.