At 3:37 a.m., a guttural yell from outside makes its way through
the brick and mortar of the otherwise silent chambers of Powell
Library.
I have been there for four straight hours and, feeling entitled
to a break, quickly step out to investigate. Outside, I meet David
Wootton, first-year undeclared student, and ask him if the noise
came from him.
“Best way to wake up,” he replies. I suggest that
coffee might be an equally good, silent way to wake up. “I
don’t know, man,” he says with a grin, “sometimes
you just have to yell, you know what I mean?”
The funny thing is that I know exactly what he means.
There is a kinship among those of us who find ourselves at
Powell all night on a Sunday, burning the midnight oil, because we
all share the same plight. Why are we here? What manner of cruelty
would force us, at the zenith of our lives, inside this
cream-colored prison into the far reaches of the night?
Whatever it is, it is our common enemy, and there are avenues of
blame to explore. I’m tired of hearing administrators and
teachers talk about how much sleep is “healthy.” The
voices that must be heard on this issue are the ones on the
fringes, the procrastinators, those of us who already find
ourselves in all-night library burns by fourth week.
I can’t help but wonder if the quarter system has anything
to do with it. At a brisk 10 weeks, the quarter system is a cruel
and vicious beast, as relentless as it is unmerciful.
Almost every student knows that it allows little room for error.
It’s difficult enough to simply keep pace ““ catching up
from falling behind requires the type of effort usually reserved
for dissertations or indoor soccer.
While other elite schools work on semesters ““ placing
midterms around seven or eight weeks in ““ some of us have
them within three. And though semesters have more classes at a
time, there is also more room for error on the part of the student.
The University of Michigan, for example, has two 15-week semesters.
Wouldn’t that be long enough to both have fun and not
sentence yourself to a 10-hour Powell binge?
I’m there already, and I want answers. At 12:15 a.m.,
right at the start of my studying, I meet a student at the end of
his. Steve Zabielskis, a fourth-year mechanical engineering
student, tells me he almost always stays on top of his work.
“I’ve had to cram before,” he says, “but
I don’t really do that anymore. You have to stay on top of
your classes or else you’ll get buried.”
Zabielskis cites one of those self-evident truths of the quarter
system, as he is of the school of thought that procrastination is
foolish. And while this is marvelous for him, how about the 99
percent of us who don’t have the discipline of a Franciscan
monk?
I am outside at 1:04 a.m., rewarding the first hour of studying
with a cigarette, when I run into Rob Swenson, who is also a
fourth-year mechanical engineering student.
Swenson doesn’t blame the quarter system either, despite
the fact that he is coming to the library well after midnight and
the desire to blame something, anything, is almost
overwhelming.
“People will procrastinate regardless of how much time
they have,” he tells me. “The quarter system just makes
it harder. Quarters jump at you, but we certainly get what we
deserve.”
Swenson then laughs, and declares that we are “hedonistic
masochists. Hedo-masochists.”
This would sound silly to me if it wasn’t almost exactly
my story. I had meant to write my paper this weekend, but the
allure of binge drinking proved too much to overcome. So now
I’m here, paying for it, A full night of fun followed by a
full night of studying. My name is Jason, and I am a
hedo-masochist.
“I say I won’t wait until the last minute every
time,” reflects Jonathan Gordon, second-year history and
Greek student. I meet Gordon on the Powell steps at 4:56 a.m. He
has finished his paper. He is going home. I ask Gordon what he did
this weekend instead of studying, and he tells me he was just
hanging out. “I know I can get it done last minute, so I put
it off,” he says.
Then I inquire as to whether he thinks this vicious cycle would
be different under a semester system. “I don’t think
this specifically would be any different,” he answers,
“we’re going to procrastinate anyway. There are still
these nights, but with quarters, there’s just more of
them.”
These are wise words for it being barely an hour before
dawn.
There’s no doubt that the quarter system is relentless,
but it’s obviously not impossible. It simply treats
procrastinators with a heartless severity.
If anything, quarters are a clearer lens though which students
can see exactly how and when they screw themselves. It’s
interesting that everyone I have talked to knows exactly why they
are pulling their all-nighters. They can all boil it down to a
night or even a single decision.
The quarter system forces us to stay on top of our studies, and
if we don’t, we feel the weight immediately.
I’m done at 7:24 am. I pack up my things and head out the
door, and am surprised that the sun is already up. Today is a new
chance to do my work on time and avoid nights like this in the
future.
Maybe I will and maybe I won’t, but either way, I will
know the consequences before I make the decision.