The Practical Education class was huge, Caleb had never seen so many students in one auditorium at a time. Maybe the prospect of having employable skills after graduation was too much to pass up for many students. After all, it was why Caleb himself was here. Anyone with a brain knew that the post-degree job market was incredibly volatile, and anything students could do to help themselves out was a boon.
Caleb sat near the edge of the room, alone, and waited for the class to shuffle in. He watched as a rather unremarkable looking man, dressed in a black t-shirt and blue jeans, made his way to the podium at the front of the auditorium. The man waited only a couple of minutes before gathering the class’ attention by speaking into the microphone. “Hey class, this thing is on, right?” he asked, getting some mumbling affirmations from the class.
“Great! Welcome to Practical Education. I think we have a record this year. I’m Dalton, your professor, for the term. Most of you won’t be seeing a lot of me, though. Because of the absolutely huge attendance this term, we’re splitting you up into predefined groups based on the aptitude test you had to do to get into the course. Your registration should indicate what section you’re in.”
Caleb, along with several other students, quickly checked their phones and laptops. He saw that he was assigned to Group G, whatever that meant. Dalton started speaking up again, “This class is far too big for me to have the lecture here, so you’ll find yourself entrusted to several different classrooms. Don’t worry, they’re all in this building, so that you don’t have to reschedule getting here by any means.” He said, clicking a button on his presenter so the powerpoint above him displayed the rooms for each group. Caleb hastily scribbled down his classroom number in his notebook.
“While I have everyone in here, I’d like to address the syllabus real quick. The first lecture is tonight, so you’ll be sent off to your individual classrooms shortly, but the grading scheme doesn’t depend on your group. In fact, it doesn’t depend on much. This class will be graded based off 100 per cent attendance,” announced Dalton as some murmurs followed. He regained control of the room, “Yes, I know, not your typical college class plot, but because of this it is absolutely vital that you attend every class. Skipping will result in failure, unless you have a suitable emergency or clear it with your instructor beforehand. Now, if you head to your classrooms you can find your instructors where you’ll watch your first video lesson today.”
Caleb didn’t need any more instruction than that, following the crowd as they petered out from the crowded auditorium to the classrooms. He once again sat at the side of the room, somewhat near the front, as he entered the classroom of desks arranged in a U-shape. He observed as students entered the classroom, capping out around twenty or so.
After the people pulling in dwindled, an imposing man who was sitting near the front of the room shifted from his seat as he got up. Caleb took a good look at the man who clearly was the instructor for this practical education class – the man was clearly built and looked like he spent a lot of time in the gym. His face was chiseled with a full, thick stubble beard covering, and his tan indicated that he spent a lot of time under the sun. He lumbered up to the front of the classroom and introduced himself: “Hey y’all, I’m Bruce and I’m your instructor for this section of Practical Education. Your tests have sorted you into this section, where you’ll be learning about the oilpatch.”
Caleb did a double take, the oilpatch? He knew this class was supposed to be focused on jobs, but he was under the impression that it would at least have something to do with his degree! His thoughts running wild were interrupted by Bruce speaking up again.
“This class is entirely going to be through videos, other than a field trip near the tail end of the semester. As Dalton said, make sure you come to every class, as attendance will be the only component of your mark.”
Caleb thought about it again, at least the grade would be an easy A+ if he went to every class. While he was thinking about the course over, he was suddenly distracted by a presentation on the board. Bruce spoke up, “This is just an intro video. It’ll be short today since it’s the first class. But after that we’ll be having full lectures.”
Caleb stared at the screen, giving it full attention. The video displayed some men driving across a work site in a big truck. “Roughnecks!” it exclaimed, “Meet the men of the oilpatch!” The video followed the truck for a moment, until the truck came to a stop next to a big drill and four men stepped out. The rigging crew was dressed in full blue jumpsuits with reflective markers on them, and clearly had the strength necessary for the job.
“These boys work hard,” the video cut to the surly men lifting heavy equipment and operating the drill. “And play hard!” it finished as it cut to the same men at a bar shooting some pool while slamming down beers in more casual clothing.
The camera cut to a scrolling view of a site. “This course will teach you an appreciation of the working world in the oilpatch, and what being a roughneck is like from day to day. These videos will prepare you for a fulfilling career in the field of oil!”
Caleb nodded along as suddenly the screen flashed black and a series of words quickly flashed in and out. He couldn’t make them out, but he stared blankly at the screen, eyes unblinking with his mouth open for a minute until it ended. The announcer spoke again. “This has been the first video in the series, next lecture will discuss the basics of oil field work.”
The video abruptly ended as Bruce stood up again. “Thanks all for coming to the first lecture,” he said. “And I hope to see you all next week. This is a pretty easy course, so it’s worth it if you stick it out to the end.” He said, as students started to peter out.
Caleb left in the middle of the pack as he headed back to his dorm. His thoughts seemed slower than before, less panicked. Even considering dropping the course felt foolish now, it was goingto be an easy A+ and teach him valuable skills about working in the real world. Even if it wasn’t his field, it would be important to have an appreciation of how other types of workers do their jobs.
Caleb got back to his down and looked at the clock. It was already 8:00. Late lectures were annoying, and this one ended early. He opened his laptop and sat down at his desk, ready to spend the rest of the night online before he went to bed. No real homework was assigned at the beginning of the semester anyway.