An Open Letter To My Geology Professors
Addressing the core issues, so to speak.
Dear Professors,
Hello. It's me, Lily. You might know me from such things as being in Geology 101.
This semester has taught me so much. I've learned about mafic, felsic, and intermediate rocks. Magnetic fields, sea-floor spreading, convergent and divergent boundaries. I'm grateful for the knowledge I've gained, yet I feel I must be honest with you.
I hate geology. I hate geology for many reasons, but here are three.
This class, and everything in it is absolutely terrifying.
I have a fear of natural disasters, space, and essentially anything beyond my control. Little did I know, these would be the main tenets of this course.
Since this class began, I have spent too many sleepless nights staring up at my ceiling, thinking about the New Madrid rupturing every waterline along the Missouri River. The endless news cycle after Los Angeles falls into the San Andreas. Tides, rising. Florida—gone. America, underwater. At every turn, there's a volcano about to erupt, an earthquake waiting to strike. No place is safe from the cruel arms of mother nature.
As you can imagine, I am not particularly fond of this cold heartless universe. Nor am I inclined to learn more about its inner workings. I could lie to you and say that I was, "excited to know more about earth's history!" or feed you some horse-pucky line about how "science is cool!" that I probably stole from an episode of Bill Nye, but I'm telling you the truth, so please don't be angry with me.
I'm taking this class because I have to. I could have taken biology, but I didn't because the only thing greater than my fear of natural disasters is my dread of having to learn about "mitosis" for the third damn time.
"But Lily!" you say, your educated, worldly faces looking down at me. "This might be a requirement, but if you apply yourself, don't you think you might get something out of it?"
"Oh, but you see," my solemn reply, "I already have."
This class has taught me about the inner workings of our planet, but also the inner workings of the most pertinent creature on the lithosphere—myself.
What I've garnered from our many worksheets and labs, is that I just don't care enough about science.
Look, the thing is I would be more than happy to enjoy science. I've seen Mythbusters. I know how you science people operate, with your inside jokes and lucrative careers. But the thing is, I'm just not the kind of person who derives pleasure from discovery. I could be the first human being to stand on the surface of Mars not feel self-actualized for a second. The kind of thing that blows my mind is finding out that the Thompson Twins are actually three people (!).
All joking aside, I understand the importance of you science folk. Without you, we wouldn't have cool things like sustainable energy, modern medicine, or advanced technology. In my personal opinion, people in the STEM field are humanity's biggest asset in fighting existential threats like climate change.
So let's cut a deal:
I will wash your cars. I will bag your groceries. I will deliver your pizzas.
In return, please, don't expect much of me. I'm an English major for chrissakes. Let me do my art while you go save the world.
Best regards,
—Lily