You wait your entire college career for one single moment: the senior seminar class for your major.
Well, maybe that’s just me.
As an English major, I knew my final English class would most likely include some reading and writing. I also knew it would be centered around a specific theme, like Food and Culture or 19th Century Monsters.
What I didn’t know: how it would feel to sit in a class and know it was the capstone course of everything I’ve been doing for four whole years.
For four years, I’ve attended English courses at Christopher Newport. I’ve learned to throw away the five-paragraph essay format, to analyze literature with a multitude of viewpoints, including post-colonial, physiological and Marxist, to write journalistic accounts of my own life, and much more. I’ve read Austen, Shakespeare and Thoreau, but also Diaz, Morrison and O’Connor. I’ve turned in papers so long, they probably contributed to the deforestation of our rainforests.
And now, I sit in my final English class. It’s focused on literary families. It’s equal parts fascinating, tedious and thought-provoking (as are most college classes/college in general).
The end is near.