Fucking Psycho… My Professor (Small Seminar Class) Didn’t Ask About My Winter Break

There’s certain social obligations that one must fulfill in this University. For example, one should avoid controversy. Ted (audience engagement manager of UTB) disagrees with this. I (UTB MLM) do as well.

Anyways, my bitch professor like literally doesn’t care about my class. I put in so much work, mental preparation, and sentence structuring into my ice breaker and they literally don’t care if I die or not. Actually, I’m overreacting. They’re really sweet. I just wish they had asked about my winter break. The class is so intimate and we talked a lot about camaraderie and how we should lean on each other if need be, but how can I lean on those who do not know anything about my past? Do they even know that I got new clothes? Would they care if I told them? None of these answers will be provided to me because my professor’s a fucking psychopath. 

But maybe I shouldn’t judge them. As we are all well aware, Penn’s faculty are unified in the lack of unity within their pedagogical approaches; one day the readings matter, and the next day the attendance matter more than readings, and most days you don’t matter at all. If the plane that I took back to Philadelphia had its door blow out, would my professor even care? What if I had such a story to share? What if the plane meal was a cornucopia that rivals a dining hall’s? One that my professor’s lack of DECORUM robbed my classmates from enjoying retroactively and viscerally through my words? I could flee the country, start somewhere new, and yet my name would remain on the Canvas of this seminar, with no one to tell of how my break went.