You most probably chose them because RateMyProfessors claimed they were an “easy A”. You’ve complained about the unreasonable load of “useless” reading they assigned and spent quite a bit of their class time online shopping — unless laptop use was forbidden. They are our ‘Core’ course professors, or some of the most under-appreciated faculty.

According to an unverbalized student behavior code, ’Core’ professors must be kept at a distance, their “cheesy” jokes not laughed at, and the only interactions with them resumed to hellos, goodbyes, and situations where you get called on in class. Most of us deem them unworthy of our tuition and sigh about “wasting” credits on learning how to write academic essays for a millionth time or analyzing The Epic of Gilgamesh.

Such was my own mindset during the first semester of freshman year. I got to class the minute before it started, packed my study materials and ran away no later than the bell rang and was reluctant to contribute to class discussion. I simply didn’t care enough to put extra effort into something I hadn’t signed up for.

Something must have changed over winter break — maybe I came to terms with the idea of our professors being human, some of them vulnerable to student indifference — but from the beginning of the Spring semester, I was participating in all all of my classes. Not only raising my hand to get a perfect participation score but immersing myself in the material and engaging with it analytically. I was your typical straight-A student, cherished by professors, uncomprehended by peers.

So, what happened? How did this sudden transformation come about?

I imagined stepping into my ‘Core’ professors’ shoes: dealing with a room full of bored students without losing faith in myself and my methods, struggling to animate classes that I know these young people didn't choose, and worrying about my rating on some stupid website designed for college students to evaluate their faculty. Suddenly, the imaginary wall of disdain separating me from them collapsed. I felt bad.

They didn't embark on teaching to look down on us or to point out the slightest grammatical mistakes in our essays. Just like us, they take little pleasure in arriving on campus at 8 a.m. And, after all, are they to blame for our lack of interest in the material they are supposed to teach?

If you have ever read or watched The Perks Of Being A Wallflower, you must remember the main character’s embarrassment about becoming friends with his English teacher at the beginning of the school year. He was wrong. In my experience, at least, professors have been some of the coolest people on campus: open-minded, knowledgeable, ready to listen without judging, and just hilarious — if you take the time to get used to their sense of humor.

Last Wednesday, a friend of mine caught me handing a thank-you note to one of my professors by the end of our very last class and couldn't refrain from commenting on it. "Don't tell me you will miss this class!" he exclaimed. Well, I truly will and I own my words.