Who Invited the Lady to Class? A Reflection On a Semester Past.

You know that moment when you realize you are no longer categorized with the young… Yeah well I had that moment last semester. I was taking my last math class. Now it’s important to know that math is one of those subjects that loses translation somewhere between the instructor's lips and my brain, I blame my ears… they're relatively normal but useless when I need important information.  Anyway, I was taking this math class, and for the first time I was required to use one of those scientific calculators.  Now, back when I was in High School, those things cost a million bucks, and only the smart kids in classes like calculus were required to use them, incase you were wondering that wasn’t this girl. Needless to say, at the start of the semester in question I drove to my neighborhood CVS and bought my very own for $14.99, boy, have they depreciated in the last 17 years or so. The only problem was, you need to be an Engineering major to know how to use the dang thing. I spent my first week in class shaking my head, wanting to do nothing with the contraption but throw in out the window, or at my condescending professor.  

This leads us to me being old. Well, there I was, standing outside of my class, minding my own business, waiting for the professor to arrive to open the classroom. I had my cute Roxy backpack on, my Rocket Dog sneakers and even a pair of jeans, distressed in all of the factory created places. 

I was thinking, “yeah, I fit in here, I’m cool.” That’s when I hear a couple of girls talking about our class. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but, I was bored just standing there in my awesome jeans. They were saying how they felt sorry for this “lady” in class. I think to myself. Hmm, I wonder who they are talking about. I scan the other loiterers looking for this “lady”. Never once did I think of myself as this lady, I am not a lady, I'm a girl, right? THAT”S when I hear the rest of their conversation and realize the “Lady” in question was this Lady, ME! It gets worse. Apparently they were feeling sorry for me because I didn’t know how to use a calculator! Hello, mortification! I am not only old but worthy of pity. The pity the young feel for the old for being old. Old! 

Needless to say, after this incident I left my distressed jeans at home, well, most of the time. I kept the battle with my calculator between the two of us, and I slowly but surely grew accustomed to the fact that I am no longer in my twenties.To be honest this last realization was a bit of a relief. I have been twenty and you couldn’t pay me enough to go back. I earned these thirty-six years and I choose to keep them, thank you very much. So move over youngsters, there’s a Lady in class, (who may on occasion struggle with calculators, MLA citation,  excel,  JSTOR, etc...) and she is proud of it.