It is a time every University student absolutely dreads. We lie awake at night hoping and praying that it not come, but deep down we know it will. Sooner or later, it catches up to all of us.
No, not graduation day, as horrifying as that may be to fourth-years like myself who are discovering all of a sudden that, without realizing it, they’ve amassed 120 credits. No, not the day the fire marshal discovers the crock pot in your dorm room, although I’d rather be on the bad side of a Kodiak bear than the University fire marshal. No, not the day your Plus Dollars run out. It’s the most stressful time of them all: Paper Season.
Paper Season usually hits about two-thirds of the way through the semester, after midterms and generally right at the point when one has finally gotten comfortable with the reading load. Of course, we theoretically ought to know that Paper Season is coming because the papers are clearly announced on the syllabi. But let’s face it: There are some things that the young adult mind doesn’t process well from reading. “No Right Turn on Red” is one, and “Paper due Nov. 16” is another. So we end up completely surprised.
The non-College students reading this are likely having a hard time gathering up much sympathy. “Come over to the Engineering School or Architecture School some time,” they are no doubt saying, “and I’ll show you a work load that will make you thankful for papers.
”There is a lot of truth to this. Until you have to write a paper, however, it can be hard to imagine the way a paper assignment can loom in the mind of a student. The normal course of events corresponds roughly to the Five Stages of Grief, though somewhat out of order.
Denial: In this stage, one tries to deal with the situation by convincing oneself that one is not really in the class after all. This generally lasts about all of five minutes. After all, the ISIS schedule doesn’t lie. But it’s nice to spend a few minutes in Fantasyland.
Depression: This is the portion of coping with a paper when the assignment seems overwhelming. Despite the fact that everyone could come up with 6,000 words off the top of his or her head about what’s wrong with college football’s postseason or how So-and-So got jobbed on “Project Runway,” writing 3,000 words about something with academic importance appears to be downright Herculean. People going through this stage of the process generally can be found either in the fetal position, clutching the syllabus and sniffling, or at a bar.
Anger: When one actually begins to write the paper, anger usually sets in soon afterwards. The complaints come fast and furious. Who would want to write about this, anyway? This book is stupid! This great thinker was a moron! This whole discipline is a joke, never mind the fact that I’m majoring in it! People in this stage tend to be rather volatile — they might be sitting right in front of you typing calmly, and put their laptop through the closest wall a moment later. It’s a good idea to avoid people in this stage at all costs. If you absolutely must see them, make it something like a quick lunch only and insist on plastic utensils.
Bargaining: In the stages of regular grief, one tries to bargain with a higher power, i.e., God. The closest thing to God in the paper-writing process is, of course, the professor. I’m not one to ask for extensions myself, but in some situations it may be the right move. One, however, has to be smart about this. Conjuring up some instant chicken pox with a red Sharpie is probably not going to fool someone with a Ph.D.
Acceptance: Sooner or later, one eventually comes to terms with the paper assignment and hunkers down to do the research and crank it out. Unfortunately, this moment often comes the night before the paper is due. Oh well. In these tough times, something has to prop up agricultural economies, and it might as well be the coffee industry.
There’s no denying that Paper Season is a difficult time of year, though there’s always a nice, long holiday waiting on the other side. What helps is if students hang together and show each other a little solidarity. If someone recalls one of your library books, return it ASAP; you never know when a life might be hanging in the balance. Step lively in the dining hall; the person behind you might be in one of those turkey-sandwich-in-15-minutes situations. If you see someone glumly hunched over a laptop looking bleary-eyed and hopeless, give him or her a pat on the back. And, needless to say, resist the urge to put your own laptop through any walls. Paper Season or no, that’s probably not covered by the warranty.
Matt’s column runs biweekly Wednesday. He can be reached at m.waring@cavalierdaily.com.