A/N: I'm a little impatient, so I'm gonna send this one out into the ether right now. Didn't feel like waiting until I got a couple of pages done.
Chapter 1
It was the second semester of my freshman year at college. My first class of the first day, which should have been the easiest class, would turn out to be the one that will up most of my time. This class- ENG105, also know as 'how to write for those that have never picked up a pen'-should have been a blow off course, and I guess it was. But, I made more work for myself.
In ENG105, the English grad students take over a section each and are allowed to center it around a topic of their choosing. As mine handed out the syllabus that morning, I found out my section's topic was 'truth', and somehow analyzing a number of short stories for the deeper meaning was how we were to unearth it. I scanned further down the sheet of paper and stopped at one word. What was an 'ethnography'? Well, whatever it was, at least I didn't need to figure that out until the end of the semester.
...or, maybe not. The next words out of the grad student's mouth was "And if you look down at the bottom of the syllabus, you will see that I expect a 12 page ethnography due the last day of classes. It's basically a study of a small group of people and their culture. These sheets that I am handing out will explain in more detail. I also included some examples to help you out. Now, I don't want you reporting on the people you already know. In one of the examples I gave you, there was a man who posed as a student at Rutgers University for a couple of months to study the culture of students in a particular dorm. I want you to introduce yourself to a previously unknown set of people. Join a club or team or something... I want you to start thinking about this now because you will need to have your research completed by April..." She continued talking, but I tuned her out. I was sitting there in a state of shock. I have heard of making friends for money or to get ahead at work, but who has ever said 'I need to make friends so I can finish my homework assignment'? Crap.
Now I wished I signed up for the section that met an hour earlier, or maybe another day of the week. I'm sure no one else is going through all this work. I'll have to start observing people on a regular basis week after week. Who has time for that? Then my cynical side pointed out that everyone else is probably going to report on the people they already know anyways. This would be the easy way out.
Unfortunately, the easy way out didn't sit well with me. I would feel dirty and horrible. Damn that honest streak in my character. It causes more pain than good. So, it was settled: I would do the assignment correctly, but have free reign to bitch about it as often as I liked. After all, it was my right to bitch if this monstrosity of an assignment was forced upon me taking up my free time. I will start by complaining to my roommate, Yuka, once I get back to the dorms...