I love Central Michigan University. My dad went there and I knew from the time I was in middle school, I would go there. But little did I know, Mr Hart taught there.
My advertising professor at Central Michigan University would fall in the category of Worst Teacher I Ever Had, not so much for what he did to me but what he did to my classmates. Apparently tenure equals immunity. And immunity doesn’t require school loyalty.
(A little back ground information needed: I was a “non-traditional student,” meaning when I started college in 1994, I was 28 years old, a wife, mother of three and a mortgage holder. Many of my peers were typical college students; fresh out of high school or in their early 20s, single, living at home or in dorms and had little responsibility.)
In my sophomore year, Hart taught the 2 advertising classes I needed for my Journalism major. Hart would trash talk the college’s administration and make fun of the class, as a whole, for paying money to attend CMU and just plain be a middle-aged, unhappy sour puss.
A die-hard Bowling Green fan, and I do mean DIE-HARD, he would reward us with Dum-Dum suckers for coming up with slogans bashing CMU in general and/or any of the college’s sports teams. (Not too many in class participated in this exercise.) His tirades were even worse when CMU played Bowling Green in any sport. And if Bowling Green won against CMU, he was as happy as a Leprechan on St. Patrick’s Day! If Bowling Green lost, well he was fair, we got to bash BG. On those days, Dum Dum suckers flew through the air like mosquitoes on a hot summer night!
In my senior year, 1999, I had Hart again for a 500 level mass media class. Keep in mind my classmates were late Generation X-ers, born in the 1970s. Hart, being a Baby Boomer, held a lot of animosity towards these kids. He would verbally rip into these students telling them they were lazy, born with silver spoons in their mouths and irresponsible and impulsive. As I looked around the class during each tirade, I noticed each student just sitting there silently, heads bowed, very few looked at him. No one stood up for themselves or their generation. As a mother, I wanted to stand up for them, defend them. Many times Hart’s “lectures” would end with an exception to me and my generation. Occasionally Hart would ask me what I thought of Generation X or if I agreed with him. Of course I did not agree with him and respectfully brought to Hart’s attention the positive of Generation X-ers.
The second to the last day of class, Hart gave the class an assignment: write an essay of what grade we thought we deserved and why.
This is what my essay consisted of:
I think I deserve an A in this class because I had to endure an entire semester of you degrading my classmates.”
Needless to say, I got an A. It was because I earned an A but at least I got my two cents in.