Boulevard of (broken) dreams

“If passion drives you, let reason hold the reigns”
Benjamin Franklin

Although I spent many years sweating blood and tears (and little carrots, according the Dutch saying) to obtain my PhD, the past few weeks I have honestly begun to feel as though a degree in counseling, as well as one in early childhood education would have been more applicable. Don’t get me wrong, I really like my students. They inspire me (and this blog), they keep me on my toes, and they make me laugh every day, but there are days when I really want to just, to use another Dutch saying, “glue them behind the wallpaper”.

This past week has been the infamous “week before finals”, in other words, the week in which all the final projects are due, students have to present their production work in front of a jury, and seniors have to not only present their portfolios, but also defend the work they carried out for the senior capstone course. Although this week is renowned for its drama, this year absolutely took the cake. Students have lost it because they got a C a project they thought warranted at least an A, or because they forgot their defense time, hence did not show up, and subsequently failed the course. We’ve had students screaming at each other out in the hallway because of missing camera equipment, lay down and cry in the middle of the same hallway because they were just too worn out, and come in dancing and praising God because their project had earned a B. It has been, to put it succinctly, a complete mess.

Of course it’s completely unfair to compare these students to the student I’ve taught in Europe. More so because the universities I worked at before did not include a production track, and therefore did not attract the more creative students we have here. But I can’t help but wonder if it’s this bad at, say, the Dutch Film Academy. I’ve never had Dutch students get this personally involved in everything that goes on in school. The worst disagreement I ever had when I was in college involved a team mate in a group research project, whom I told in no uncertain terms that if she wasn’t going to shape up, she would no longer be a part of our group. It was very quiet, and involved neither yelling nor tears.

Now the students I teach here in Georgia are infinitely more passionate than any Dutch student I have ever met. They could honestly sell water to a fish and convince my grandmother to go clubbing with them. Whereas the students here see college as a way of life, most of my Dutch students treated college as just another thing that they needed to get done, and never got really excited about anything, except those rare occasions when the Dutch national soccer team did really well at the world championships. On the other hand, my current students view life as one big adventure, and are the embodiment of the idea that a life not lived is no life at all. And possibly the combination of passion and living life to the max is what makes the last weeks of the semester, when push comes to shove such a drama. Perhaps in order to make it through unscathed, my students need to somehow become a little more Dutch, and care just a little less. It is, after all, only school. But don’t tell anyone I said that.