Soldi. L'argent. Peníze. Penge. Raha. Geld. Dinero.
No matter what language you speak, money talks. And no matter how you say the word money, it takes time and effort to make it.
But more so, if you want to make cash legitimately, you have to "play the game."
Whether you're sitting in the Student Union, not paying attention in a lecture hall, relieving yourself in a bathroom, or studying in the library, being enrolled at UB makes you a player. The bottom line is that you're in school to earn a degree that will some day get you a job.
But consider what Will Hunting said to Chuckie, the Harvard know-it-all, about education in the movie Good Will Hunting: "You dropped 150 grand on a f***** education you could have got for a dollar fifty in late charges at the public library."
Let it resonate for a second.
You attend classes that require you to buy overpriced books. You're then instructed to only read the sections that your professors think are important. You're penalized for coming to class late, tested on the material you've been taught and subjected to a strict schedule that you follow for 15 weeks until your course is completed.
Oh yeah, and you're paying thousands of dollars to do so.
The worst part is that you don't even feel cheated. Going to college is almost non-negotiable. You're supposed to be an undergraduate, especially if you want a decent-paying job when you're older.
But even that isn't guaranteed anymore.
So why, then, are we here?
The answer is simple: colleges and universities have the power to distribute degrees. They need our money and we need their certification that we are educated individuals ready to join the workforce. It's a standard case of mutual back scratching.
But what does holding a degree really prove?
There are a number of facetious skits on Kanye West's album College Dropout that poke fun at the student who earns countless degrees but remains unemployed. Simply reading the lyrics on paper doesn't do the humor justice, but the voice narrates:
"You get that associate degree, okay/ Then you get your bachelors/ Then you get your masters/ Then you get your masters' masters/ Then you get your doctorate/…Because when I die, buddy, you know what's going to keep me warm?/ That's right, those degrees."
Sarcasm aside, holding a degree doesn't make you intelligent.
It only proves that you paid an unreasonably high tuition to learn a specific curriculum set by your professors. Future employers who look at your transcript don't know anything about the faculty who taught you, they don't know which books you've read – or if you read them at all ¬– and most of all, they don't know what you've taken away from your education.
Those who are interested in their studies and make the most of their classes will probably benefit more than those who coast by, cheat on exams, skip classes and do the bare minimum to get by.
But at the end of the day, as long as you pay your tuition and pass your courses, everyone is granted a degree.
The hard worker will probably get a better job, but isn't it conceivable that the "slacker" could be a better employee? Does GPA always reflect IQ?
What if, for instance, there's a student who neglects his course work because he's more interested in choosing the books he reads? Instead of blindly following his professors' expertise, he takes it upon himself to research facts and learns more about life outside of the classroom.
The narrow-minded student who is spoon-fed information, however, is more likely to get a job right out of college.
And who does this all benefit? The employer who is misled by a resume? The bright student who sees past his professor's Ph.D.? The studious peer who eats up the books he's assigned to read?
No, no and no. It benefits the school that comes away with students' money and adds esteemed professionals whose minds they "crafted" to their list of alumni.
The sad part is that regardless of whether you agree or disagree with the rules, you have to play the game.
