Classroom politics: part one

What follows is part one of my two-part political series. Since it is election season and every channel is covering politics, I figured that I should do a “political column.” But before you stop reading because you think I am like every other columnist at The Chronicle—a raging liberal or conservative who thinks I’m smarter than you—I’d like you just to bear with me. I’m not talking about governmental politics; I’m talking about classroom politics, about “the authoritative allocation of power” (Feaver, Sept. 9, 2004) in the classroom.

Every semester, there seems to always be a distinct dynamic that exists in every class. A learning environment breeds this very interesting every-day interaction between students. But is the environment very different from class to class? I’d venture to say no.

At the most basic level, there are two types of students at Duke: Those who try to seem smart and those who try to seem dumb. Now, you may be asking why I am always simplifying things, categorizing and making unfair judgments on everybody; and that is a good question—but one for another day.

You all know those kids that try to look smart in class; many of you probably are that kid. There’s Nodding Kid, who pretends to look interested during class. He makes eye contact with the professor and nods approvingly, as if to say, “Yeah, I’m totally interested and understand what you’re saying.” Too bad that’s not true.

Overzealous Kid, like Nodding Kid, is often engaged in lecture and discussion. He often leads the class because others defer to Overzealous Kid because, well, he is overzealous. He does all the assignments, tries to talk to the professor after classes and participates in class, usually in a pretentious manner. An offshoot of Overzealous Kid is Pretentious Kid, who thinks he knows the material better than the professor and talks overconfidently, but not often. After all, he is better than discussing such menial topics.

The only kid that participates more than Overzealous Kid is Kid Who Talks Too Much, but Says Nothing. He speaks for the sake of speaking, often pointing out things that were already mentioned and using way more words than needed. In talking so much, he will take up a good 10 minutes of “discussion,” but nobody will listen past his first sentence—not even the professor. Kid Who Talks Too Much, but Says Nothing makes many others want to pound their heads on concrete for hours.

Stupid Question Kid also has a similar effect. Although teachers have been telling us for years that “there is no such thing as a stupid question,” we all know they are wrong. Really wrong. Stupid Question Kid asks about things that were just covered: “Wait, sorry, what did you just say?” He also never uses declarative sentences. Instead, he asks them: “So, when you said that they were happy, did you mean that they were, like, not sad?” He is the reason teachers stopped telling us that lie about stupid questions after middle school. There is such a thing as a stupid question; and guess what, Stupid Question Kid, you ask them… far too often.

Then there’s always DSG Kid. While there isn’t a DSG Kid in every class, you can spot them from a mile away. DSG Kid talks a lot and very fast. He also carries a laptop and believes in some alternate universe where DSG can actually do something. Either that, or they hope that other people believe that DSG can do something; and by other people, I mean people with jobs. Further, DSG Kid knows what’s going on at all times, but strangely cannot find a party unless a resolution was passed to restrict it.

Sarah Kwak is a Trinity sophomore.