Somebody's Son

Bumped into my Anal Chem professor today, on a Saturday, to my great surprise. It's Parents' Weekend on campus and his mom is here, too. If you've seen his picture (part of my professor stalking post) then you can understand my surprise in learning that he even has a mom. That he was once younger, not just shorter. Our Anal Chem class consists of only six people- an undeclared major (a sophomore leaning toward chem), a bio/German double major, a soc kid, an art history kid, a neuroscience kid, and one lone chem major. This phenomenon has always baffled Anal Chem prof, who often questions why we are taking Anal Chem, why we ask the ridiculous questions that we do, and why we give him so many blank looks. He continually expresses amazement that we take classes that require paper-writing; his greatest shock is not just that we don't live for the sciences, but that we don't live purely for chemistry. But this all changed yesterday, when he saw half of our class on stage during the Common Hour performances, dancing, stepping, and poeting.

Though the piece yesterday was a thrill to perform (way better than what you can hear on the audio post), though it mentionws two real influential soc profs (it's about my life as a soc major, after all), though it has gotten supportive feedback from friends and random parents, and though it was also critiqued as being 'too cute,' it was my chemistry professor's reaction that was the most satisfying. It was worth far more than letting my soc professors know they've inspired me. That stuff is trite. Bumping into Anal Chem prof, he was animated, chatty, and smiling. Vita-K, who watched him through most of the performances (except for her own), said that that was how he was for much of the show- beaming.

As she put it, he gets us now. He gets why we're in there, every Monday, Wednesday and Friday.