After raising four kids and losing one husband, I decided to return to college and get the degree I had started but never finished. And so, on my first day of college, eager with anticipation, and more than a little nervous, I took a front row seat in my first class in over 40 years ... a literature course.
The professor told us we would be responsible for reading five books over the course of the semester, and that he would provide us with a list of authors from which we could choose.
He ambled over to the lectern, took out a paper, and began: "Baker, Black, Brooks, Carter, Cook..."
I was working feverishly to get down all the names when I felt a tap on my shoulder. The student behind me whispered, "Slow down... he's just taking attendance."
In a very exclusive private school near California's Silicon Valley, a third-grade teacher was lecturing her upper high-class students about the less fortunate. She asked them each to write an essay about a poor family in the area.
One young girl's paper began:
"Once upon a time there was a poor family. The father was poor. The mother was poor. The children were poor. The nannies were poor. The pool man was poor. The personal trainer was poor. The gardeners were poor. This was a very poor family."
Today we’re going to study about growing a garden. Take out your weeding books.
Today we’re going to study pigs. Does everyone has a pen?
Today I am going to put a new spin on computer learning. Take out your lap tops.
Today we’re going to talk about death. And this will be on your final exam.