Education Epiphanies

It is strange to go around for two years telling people your major and taking classes in it, but then one day having the realization that you actually might know something about your field that the average person might not know.  It seems like an obvious fact, but you just get used to going to classes—just like you did in high school—and working with professors that know infinitely more than you think you’ll ever know.  Not to mention that paradox in which the more you know, the more you realize you don’t know.  But then one day you surprise yourself and think, “Wow, maybe I do know a thing or two about modernist poetry.”  Or something like that. 

This epiphany was actually sparked by my roommate Elizabeth, who is majoring in Biology and minoring in Chemistry and Spanish.  We are both officers of the Random Acts of Kindness Sharers club, which mostly entails the distribution of free food, and to that end we were baking about 100 cookies in our kitchen one night when she had the chance exercise her chemistry skills.  In all the bedlam and disarray of our kitchen that night, we accidentally left a Tupperware lid on the stove, which was not on, but the oven was on and was hot enough to melt that bright orange plastic right to the burner.  As soon as we noticed we pulled the burner off the stove and started frantically attempting to rinse and scrape the plastic off the burner, which wasn’t really working. 

Suddenly, Elizabeth starts muttering to herself like a mad scientist about the chemical properties of acetone.  At least that’s what it sounded like to me, being that my only possible contribution as an English major was “out damn’d spot!” (that’s a Macbeth quote for all you Shakespeare lovers out there).  She then looked up at me and said (in plain English now), “I think that we can get this off using nail polish remover.”  And to our surprise, it worked.  All because Elizabeth knew the chemical properties of acetone.  After years of slaving away through organic and analytical chemistry classes, she found that she actually knew enough to apply her knowledge to a real world situation. 

The same thing has been happening to me this year as well, though in smaller doses.  A friend from another school texted me asking if I could name instances of masculinity or compassion in Steinbeck novels, and it turned out that I could.  My sister wanted to know if I could tell her about a précis and I could do that too.  I saw a preview for the movie Anonymous (about Shakespeare) and I could explain to my friends why it wasn’t accurate (Shakespeare was very open about the sources from which he borrowed; it was a common practice in those days).  And suddenly I feel like I am starting to get a better picture of this beast called literature, just like Elizabeth is with chemistry.  And next time I tell someone my major, I think I’ll believe it a little bit more myself. 

Elizabeth and I pondering the chemical and symbolic nature of snow.  Or just taking a break from homework.