It’s September, which can only mean one thing: It’s Back-to-School Time! Do I hear strains of Handel soaring in the background?

Those of you who know me may suspect that my excitement [denoted by use of exclamation point above] comes from having my kids head back to class and out of my hair after a delightful–yes, delightful, she snapped–but very long summer.

Sorry to disappoint you, but you’re wrong. I’ve really enjoyed having this time with my children this summer. No, really. Stop laughing. Now.

Okay, maybe you’re a little bit right, I can’t deny that it has, indeed, been a loooooooong summer. But a chance to regain some of my lost sanity [please tell me it comes back] is not the primary reason for my excitement. I’m not excited because they’re going back to school; I’m excited because I’m  going back to school.

After having my plans for graduate school this fall derailed, I decided that there were still some things I could do to keep moving forward; one of those things was to start coursework in the Graphic Design field. I felt there was a knowledge gap for me in that area on a couple of freelance projects I’ve done this year, so thought it’d be a good way to close that gap. I’m also keeping one eye on the self-publishing industry (though there’s a  stubborn, elitist part of me that still views that as a decision of last resort). Should I decide to head down that path, being able to do my own layout would mean more freedom for me (and less money, since I wouldn’t have to pay someone else to do it.)

So it was that I found myself in my first Graphic Design class bright and early last Thursday morning. I was ridiculously excited, taking my seat in the front row of a packed classroom. Before you assume that I’m some sort of teacher’s pet, let me point out that the room was packed, and the only seat left was in the front row. (Just between you and me, I probably would have sat in the front row anyway, even if the room was empty, because I am a teacher’s pet. I just didn’t want you to be making baseless assumptions.) And the ridiculous excitement? That stemmed from having spent ten hours in the car with my family the day before. Need I say more on that subject?

I grinned like an idiot when the instructor entered the room. I was so ready to soak up some knowledge, that I found it really disappointing to spend so much time going around the room introducing ourselves, but it’s probably a good thing we did, because it forced me to turn around and look at the faces of the people in the room behind me. God, they were so young! This class is being held at a technical college, so the class is full of very young, very fresh, very…bored? late teens and early twenty-somethings.

I studied their faces as the instructor went around the room. “Hi, I’m Jane. I’m here because my mom told me I had to get out of bed this morning or move out.” “Hi, I’m John. What class is this again?” “Hi, I’m Mary. What’s the minimum grade I have to earn in this class to graduate?” “Hi, I’m Matt. I’m not in this class, actually–does anyone have a set of jumper cables? Dude, I left my lights on and now my car won’t start.” And on almost every face, boredom, apathy, and irritation. There were, to be fair, precisely 3 exceptions: two exchange students, and an older–read, older than me–woman who was heading back to school after having lost her job. And then there was me.

How could this be? How could the rest of the class not be filled with the same anticipation and eagerness to learn that was making me quiver like a chihuaua? How could they possibly be bored? Have I grown so old that I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be stuck in a windowless classroom listening to a boring teacher talk about rules and grades on a beautiful late-summer day? Yes, apparently I have.

I could hear their idle chatter in the back of the room throughout the professor’s opening speech; I could hear their irritated sighs as she went over her grading policies (and I understood with sad clarity why she felt had to spell things out so carefully); and when the professor announced that we were going to be watching a video, I could just make out a communal “Yes!” sounding from the room as a whole. Myself, I was disappointed that our first day was to be spent watching a video–but not for long.

The video turned out to be a history of…Print! Yes! You heard me correctly: from the cave paintings of Lascaux, France, all the way up to the technologically advanced and marvelously modern…1970s. Fascinating.

I could hear the eyeballs of my fellow classmates plunking on the floor behind me, they were rolling so far back in their heads.

The professor warned us that it was a foreign film and the narrator had a very strong accent, so we might have a hard time understanding some of it. I watched the opening credits and prepared myself for a voiceover by the Swedish Chef, but was pleasantly surprised when the video was opened by the dulcet tones of …Sir Alec Guinness? When did he find time around the Star Wars videos? It probably wasn’t him, but it certainly sounded like him. I snuck a peak around me to see if anyone was having trouble understanding his “heavy accent”, but everyone else was sleeping, so I couldn’t tell.

At that point, enjoying the quiet unbroken save for the occasional plink of drool droplets landing on a desk or an unexpected snore, I settled in to watch the rest of the video, which I, personally, found to be quite interesting. Did you know that Bodoni, Garamond, and Baskerville were actually real people before they were fonts? Fascinating.

I can’t wait until next week.