“Never let your schooling interfere with your education.”
It’s almost as if this American literary legend is speaking directly to us, the proud and rambunctious fraternity men thriving over a hundred years later. Class, to put it lightly, is a necessary evil. The morning after your straight liquor pulls and Katrina-esque shitstorm nights, you are obligated to bite the bullet, ignore the Tokyo fault line splitting your head in two, and shuffle your way into that fluorescent hell of a classroom.
While your fraternity probably hosts a multitude of majors under its roof, every single brother struggles with the demons of education at some point in the semester. Even the liberal arts/pre-law slackers have a week or two a year where they have to put down the bottle of Makers and work (if you can call a 3 page paper on the movie Jaws ‘work’). There simply isn’t a way to avoid exams and assignments in college, much to all of our dismay.
Since we can’t always beat the system, in true fraternal fashion we sidestep the rules as much as humanly possible. Among these sidestepping techniques is utilization of the sacred “test bank.” Every respectable fraternity has these filing cabinets filled to the brim with old notes and tests; perfect aids for our Adderall fueled study binges. Sure, you might not have much of a use for that 1997 Intro to Financial Accounting practice exam, but there’s bound to be something in there useful to you.
In addition, several “tutoring” companies are springing up on campuses across the country, designed to help students with tough subjects before exams. While these companies present themselves as respectable supplements to your rigid class agenda, we all know what they are really for: those of us who find better things to do than attend lectures. Weeks of impossibly boring lectures are condensed into a mere 4 hour (still impossibly boring) cram session. These companies have been the salvation of many a student (myself included, fuck you stats), and if your college has one by all means embrace its gifts.
If there’s one thing class is good for, it’s making the times you’re free from its grasp that much more satisfying. And remember: if it wasn’t for the ‘class’ part of college you would be a GDI. I don’t care how short your inseams are, the number of PFG’s you own, or about the neon croakies holding your Costas in place. So suck it up. Besides, you can always just sit in the back and sleep.