Getting Called On

I hadn't raised my hand yet. There's like 80 people in my section, which means I have the same 80 people in 4 out of 5 of my classes. Of 80 people there were about 3 guys, who really, really liked to raise their hands. Now, it was quite troubling to realize just how fucking much this annoyed me. It annoyed me for two reasons. The first is that what these guys were saying was so rarely a good answer that discussing what they were talking about amounted to a waste of time and energy. The second reason it annoyed me was because you have to believe these guys are trying to impress someone. I'm doubtful they were trying to impress the professor and if they were, they were failing. My guess is these three frat-boy, political discussion at lunch leading, tablet laptop carrying, credential dropping, collar popping, overachievers were trying to impress the beautiful coeds in our section. Luckily these bright young women of our section were not undergrad freshmen and weren't in the least bit intoxicated (and therefore) were unimpressed by these fuckers' antics. When one of the more attractive women in the class, who happened to be sitting next to me, whispered "put your hand down" under her breath, a wave of satisfaction swept over me. At least I'm surrounded by intelligent people that know that these kids points are pointless.
In my final class of the day, about half way through, the professor had probably acknowledged 25 raised hands in the debate on a particular legal theory. Some of these hand-raisers had decent points that furthered the conversation. Most, however, recieved firm criticism of what they had to say about the topic. Some of this criticism went like this. "No, you're wrong." "That's completely missing the point." "I just told you this discussion had nothing to do with that." My favorite though is when a person talks for about 45 seconds to make a point and the professor just says, "No," and moves on to the next hand. Somewhere in the middle of this there was a lull. He posed another question and I heard, "What do you think about that Mr. Smola?" There's that initial wave of fear when you get called on- you have to rethink what he's just said to avoid looking like an idiot and must nearly instantly recall what points have already been made. I did this, answered the question, and he said "That's exactly right." Fantastic, I made it through my first question, which, I'll admit, was pretty easy. Two minutes of lecture followed and he asked me another question. Got it right, two minutes of lecture, another question. Is this guy serious? At one point I offered up a grotesquely diplomatic answer which, as soon as it came out of my mouth I knew was going to get ripped. He, kindly said "You should be a politician, you know I can't possibly criticize or even comment on that reply, try again." By the end I had answered 6 progressively harder questions correctly. Survivor of my first encounter with the Socratic method. You don't have to drop credentials or try really really hard to impress. You graduated number 3 in your class from Nebraska-it is NEBRASKA. You're one of the few liberals in the midwest and fought for gay rights in Oklahoma city-congratulations. You're incredibly capable of making mediocre points in class-lovely. Try, once, to be the quiet, contemplative guy in the back that when called on is dead on. And for God sakes put your fucking hand down.