We can all agree that we are paying too much, or not getting paid enough, by this institution. I pay almost double now than what I did for my first year (which was only two years ago, mind you) as tuition, fees and residence costs have gone up, while state and college financial aid has diminished. At the same time, faculty members are paid half of what they should be, or what they could be if they taught elsewhere, especially if they’re not sitting in endowed chairs or are here as “visiting” or “assisting” professors/instructors. I will say right now that I am woefully uninformed about the college’s budget (other than that, of course, we don’t have enough money), spending goals and future plans, so I am not going to attack or defend those ideas. Instead, I want to examine our view on the relationship between faculty and students here at Gustavus.

Yes, we need administrators—they do, in fact, make every part of the college run outside the classroom. Although perhaps “[Our] bureaucracy is expanding to meet the needs of the expanding bureaucracy,” (unattributable) I won’t comment on that either. The bureaucracy is the engine of officials, so I’ll let President Jack Ohle and the Board of Trustees decide what to do with it.

I am, however, a student. I attend college. It is generally accepted that one attends college to get a degree. If the degree were the only important part of attending college, I’d expect we’d all do it in a cheaper way. But we don’t.

I attend Gustavus. I have my reasons, some of which are more reasonable than others. I think it is the people in this community who keep me here. It’s a beautiful place too, but not the only one. Yes, if I had to choose one thing that makes me want to attend Gustavus, it is the community.
Now, our professors don’t have the same kind of freedom we as students do to choose the institution we are a part of, or the freedom to leave it either, but they are here nonetheless.

Are they here for the money? That’s a laughable proposition. No, I’d guess they’re here to teach, but they could teach elsewhere. They might be here specifically because of the other people who are here, a certain sense of community.

So we’re all here for the community. What the community is, I have no idea. My point is that we’re here for each other. We’re not here to hold hands and cry on each other’s shoulders, but if it happens, it happens.
We’re an academic community. Vigorous debate, vocal student leadership, proliferous student involvement opportunities, and the freedom to engage in sometimes uncomfortable but necessary conversations are all parts of it. Above all else, however, we’re here to learn. We’re here to teach. Often both.

We learn in many ways and in many places, but primarily we interact with other learners in the classroom. Yet we all know that learning is not the only thing that goes on in the classroom. Recall the usual culprits like sleeping, texting and doodling, but also some pretty creative ones too: I heard someone clipping their nails during a video the other day. I’ve seen some cool iPhone apps being used and demonstrated in class too.
There’s nothing wrong with these activities; everyone clips their nails, everyone sleeps. It is not my job, nor is it a teacher’s job, to tell you to stop doing them. Only we can decide for ourselves what to do with our bodies and our time. Maybe that means I write a post-it note on my Blackberry that says “each minute in class costs $5” (which I did, before I got rid of my Blackberry) so that when I reach for it during class I know exactly what I’m missing out on. As a student, I’m paying to be in class. Sometimes I have to remind myself of that.

I still zone out in classes. I still doodle when I’m bored. I don’t think I’m going to ever get rid of those kinds of activities entirely. But if I pay to be in a class where professors have spent years of their lives and money they probably didn’t have training to teach me, I like to at least respect them enough to try and be present in class.

I’m here, and I’m here because of you, and I’m here to learn.

Why are you here?