Of Glens and Ghosts

Of Glens and Ghosts - Chapter Two

Chapter Two

"The Writer's Workshop Debate Class"

I guess it is true that life imitates art more than art imitates life, because whenever I walk into the hustle-and-bustle of the English Language Arts College on days like today, it feels as if I've also stepped into a "Where's Waldo" book. Normally, this department is only crowded with people lined up at Pegasus Tea and Coffee just downstairs, or by incoming students on a tour of the university. Other than that, the few people here consist of students like Tristan and I, who are simply trying to make it to class on time. The Department of English's autumn showcase for creative writing would be here in just six short weeks, and therefore the lobby was teeming with life. Professors speed walked past us with boxes of decorations for their tables—while the janitor stood on a ladder—as the dean pointed upwards trying to help him tape a large banner on the ceiling. The voices of students who were practicing their speeches for the big day rang out over my shoulder. I only zoned back into reality when I heard Tristan's voice break out over the others.

"Today seems busy, even for the upcoming showcase." he remarked. I nodded back at him, stepping out of the way quickly before an exhausted, yet determined student with a large backpack almost crashed into me while running to class. "I wonder how many people the faculty are expecting to show up, because this seems like a lot of effort for an event that is normally only attended by the same people who are helping set up everything. I mean don't get me wrong, I love creative writing. It's just that we're at the busiest point in the semester and I cannot imagine that a lot of people will come and listen to more "creative" research when finals are around the corner." I said, as the two of us began walking up the stairs to the classroom. "But maybe that's just me and my opinion and nothing more. Where has the creativity gone and run off to?"

Tristan laughed and playfully punched me in the shoulder. "What do you mean that you don't want to hear more non-fiction research about a boring or polarizing topic that the professors forced someone to pick out despite the fact that students like ourselves, cannot talk about it in a classroom? Isn't that the new, hot thing to go do as an English Education major?" he said, sarcastically. We were almost to the door of the infamous classroom 246, which belonged to Dr. Quill and his British Literature students for this semester. The place where something interesting was always happening when it came to the English Language. Such as the reason why Sir Gawain is the greatest knight at King Arthur's round table, or the professor's tangents about why John Milton's Paradise Lost is the best piece of epic literature ever created. I couldn't agree more, as long as J.R.R. Tolkien and The Lord of the Rings are also included in the conversation.

I could already hear muffled and passionate arguing going on behind the wooden door. "Somehow, I have this gut feeling that today's lecture will be interesting." I murmured, letting my voice trail off. Tristan moved over and grabbed the cold, metallic door handle. "How so?—" replied Tristan before getting cut off, yet again, but this time at the sight of Dr. Quill having a heated discussion about his dissertation on Alexander Pope with a basic-looking sorority girl, who looked like she was questioning her choices to be there, participating in this program. The girl who crashed into me earlier was sitting in the back corner of the room, taking notes with a Studio Ghibli-themed notepad as a frat boy snoozed away in the row in front of her. Two other girls sat in the middle row behind my seat, a Japanese exchange student named Mirai and Florence, who is majoring in classics, but is taking this class as an elective. I glanced over at the sorority-girl's face, which appeared to get more frustrated as we took our seats. "Just a guess." I responded. The discussion continued on as the tension between them increased.

"Nicole," began the professor. "The reason why we continue to read classics is not because those authors hold white privilege. It is because these books push us to think critically and deeply about humanity, more so than your average young adult novel will delve into. Having a balance between these two genres are important, but lately I have noticed that people are forgetting this important fact." He looked at everyone in the class and pointed his finger at the top of his head. We stared back, waiting to see what would happen next. "You see, according to Alexander Pope, our ability to think critically is the only thing that separates us from pond scum. Humans are only at the top of the food chain because we have the gift of thought. And if we do not learn to sharpen it, every other type of living being on planet Earth will either kill you or take advantage of you." Said Dr. Quill. Point Quill.