college kids

Yeah, college kids these days! Harummph!

There’s a diverse mix of students in my V&D class. James is from Nigeria, blahblah is from Columbia, Sister Pepita is from the Phillipines and Occasional (named because of his attendance) is from Somalia. It’s always hilarious when the instructor hauls out the F-bomb and starts talking about venereal diseases in class while watching Sister squirm.

The other students are mostly college-age kids, mostly unkempt and apparently unbathed. Even the girls. They're sweet and dumb and self-absorbed; they know nothing about the world. When they presented their autobiographies, all they could talk about was elementary school and high school, ending with “and well, here I am in county college, and I don’t know what I’m going to do with the rest of my life.”

I don't remember being that boring and misinformed at that age, but perhaps I was.

They wear slippers and sweatpants to class. Some are still wearing their pants at crotch level. Isn't that look over yet? They still forget to bring #2 pencils on test days.

And then there’s Bambi, a little haggard with a whiskey grin and a smoker’s cough, and a couple of kids of her own. Her daughter is a a drug addict, unable to care for her own 2-year-old daughter, so that job has fallen to Bambi. Which pretty much has to suck, so I will try to refrain from making snarky comments about her in the margins.

And nearly 2 months into class, the only interesting thing we've done in class is breathing and tongue exercises. And not with each other.