Fresh Perspectives: There's a lot more to be said about a Liberal Arts degree
Gina Moffa
Issue date: 10/27/09 Section: Opinion
After Columbus Day, with the prospect of Thanksgiving Break an impossible speck of light in the distance and the effortless life of summer a mere intangible memory, we find ourselves buried beneath an ever-increasing pile of "stuff" to do. Midterms, papers, meetings, presentations, events -- it's enough to send even the most organized, responsible student running to the health center with the hope of being diagnosed with the swine flu.
Every week is a marathon, the reward of a much-needed weekend coaching you towards the finish line. And then it starts all over again.
So last weekend, while I was enjoying one of my few weekends of freedom in Boston, visiting a friend for Fall Break, I couldn't have been happier to proclaim that -- for once -- I didn't have a mountain of homework to tackle upon my return to Loyola.
After mentioning this to someone I had just met in Boston, however, I found myself the victim of an unwarranted assault.
It was a condescending remark that took the form of "Well, let me guess. You're probably a liberal arts major or something."
I'm a Writing major, so that kind of hit a sore spot.
Remarking how I didn't have a lot of work that weekend certainly wasn't enough information to warrant such an assumption, especially with that tone. Liberal arts -- as if I were an Untouchable.
This wasn't the first time I was accosted in such a tone of disapproval and superiority.
Most of the time people are pretty confused as to what exactly a major in Writing entails.
It takes awhile for me to explain that no, it's not Creative Writing. And it's not English or Journalism.
After describing the sorts of classes Loyola's Writing department has to offer, I'm usually received with a forced nod and a smile of fake encouragement along with the absolute worst -- "That's nice."
Well, doesn't that make me feel pleased with the countless hours of blood, toils, tears and sweat I pour into paper after paper, my hands glued to my laptop with the urgency of a codependent relationship.
Every week is a marathon, the reward of a much-needed weekend coaching you towards the finish line. And then it starts all over again.
So last weekend, while I was enjoying one of my few weekends of freedom in Boston, visiting a friend for Fall Break, I couldn't have been happier to proclaim that -- for once -- I didn't have a mountain of homework to tackle upon my return to Loyola.
After mentioning this to someone I had just met in Boston, however, I found myself the victim of an unwarranted assault.
It was a condescending remark that took the form of "Well, let me guess. You're probably a liberal arts major or something."
I'm a Writing major, so that kind of hit a sore spot.
Remarking how I didn't have a lot of work that weekend certainly wasn't enough information to warrant such an assumption, especially with that tone. Liberal arts -- as if I were an Untouchable.
This wasn't the first time I was accosted in such a tone of disapproval and superiority.
Most of the time people are pretty confused as to what exactly a major in Writing entails.
It takes awhile for me to explain that no, it's not Creative Writing. And it's not English or Journalism.
After describing the sorts of classes Loyola's Writing department has to offer, I'm usually received with a forced nod and a smile of fake encouragement along with the absolute worst -- "That's nice."
Well, doesn't that make me feel pleased with the countless hours of blood, toils, tears and sweat I pour into paper after paper, my hands glued to my laptop with the urgency of a codependent relationship.
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