Five Hundred Dollars Is Forcing Me To Stay In School This Summer

Money talks, even where online class motivation is concerned.

“I hate this and I just want to quit.”

I wish I could say tonight was the first time I’d thought this about the online class I’m taking this summer. But I’ve actually said it twice a week for the past four weeks, and I will probably continue saying it for the next two and a half weeks, or until my accelerated six-week course is over.

It’s not about the course content. The class is on Women in American History, a topic I find interesting all on its own. And it’s not the instructor — she is engaging and pleasant and has given me good grades thus far, so what’s not to like? Nor is it the difficulty of the course work. It’s a 100-level gen ed course, yet another stepping stone in my part-time slog toward my English and secondary education degree, a necessary cog in the wheel that doesn’t exactly stretch my mental capacities beyond their limits.

The problem is that I just don’t really want to do the homework.

Look, I’m a straight-A student, for the most part. I was never the kid raising her hand asking if we actually had to read the assigned portions of the textbook, or how many quizzes on the syllabus could be skipped while still earning a passing grade. I show up on time, do the work, get the grades, and go home.

But something about this summer course is getting me down. It’s not boring, it’s not bad, it’s not too hard. I just don’t want to do it.

I’m starting to wonder if I’m just lazy. Or if it’s the pandemic’s fault. (That’s a nice, convenient scapegoat these days.) I mean, these are unprecedented times, or so I hear.

I’m still working full-time (the joys of being an essential employee), but that never stopped me from scooping up college credits on the side before this. I’m also seven months pregnant, but plenty of women complete higher education while gestating a person. Surely I can do it too. And yes, it’s summer, and the allure of fun in the sun might otherwise tempt me outdoors and off on adventures instead of plugging away at mandatory discussion forums, but we’re in the middle of a pandemic, so that temptation is a moot point these days.

I can’t put my finger on an exact reason, but here I am, typing up an article about why I don’t want to do my homework while the clock ticks ever closer to the deadline for submitting my homework tonight.

I’ve been wanting to call it quits. But I’m not going to.

This isn’t an impassioned vow to do the right thing and persevere even when the going gets tough. I wrote about that already — that work has value even when it doesn’t feel valuable or worthy. I still believe that wholeheartedly, but it doesn’t really apply in this situation. My homework for this class is not propping up anyone else’s noble calling. The participation I begrudgingly bequeath on the twice-weekly discussion boards would probably not be missed if I failed to provide it. No one would be harmed by my bailing on this class and receiving an F.

Except my bank account.

And there’s the rub. I paid for this class, darn it, and I’m going to see it through.

Let me be frank — I get a discount on tuition due to my job. I’m not even paying full price for this three-credit course, yet my cheapskate self can’t bear to throw any amount of money away. Perhaps it’s a subtle preparation for parenting. If I can’t even allow myself, today, to waste hard-earned cash on a class in which I don’t earn a passing grade, I definitely won’t let my son get away with that kind of behavior in the future. (He’ll absorb these life lessons through the umbilical cord, right?)

So I’m doubling down and writing that essay tonight. I’ll probably turn it in right before the deadline. I’ll — grouchily — push myself to actually do good work, and not just throw together a few catchy phrases to hit my word count.

Because I paid for this higher education and I’m going to finish this out even if it kills me. Which it won’t. But it may kill some of my writing inspiration. Not that there was much there to begin with anyway.

Sometimes the reason for doing a thing is petty, and mercenary, and not worthy of a TED talk. This is called Real Life.

And sometimes, it is okay to finish something not because you believe in the power of your dreams, or any inspiring claptrap like that, but simply because you would feel like a wasteful heel — even just to yourself — if you didn’t suck it up and see it through.

I apologize to any disappointed reader who may have embarked upon this piece with the hopes of finding some life-altering truth upon which to pin their own drive to success. I do not have wisdom to bestow upon you, or gems of motivational wit to push you to the finish line.

I can only say that if you threw money at the bursar’s office, you should not let it die in vain.

Finish the course. Hold your chin up. Keep going, even when the going gets tough.

After all… how else are you going to earn that degree that won’t guarantee you a job in your chosen profession?