Have You Ever Raw Dogged A Class?

By LARAIB IRFAN

Here, we have an acute case of senioritis. Merely a month away from commencement, I sensed it was finally time to switch gears, venture into uncharted territory, and embrace the results. After a peculiarly chirpy start to the day on Monday this week, I realized I have spent all my college years caring interminably about school, classes, showing up to class on time with all necessary and unnecessary equipment, grades, getting the perfect grade, and that I had had enough. I was going to try something new: I was going to raw dog a class. 

Now, please give me the benefit of the doubt here and understand that I am not using the term for shock value alone, and allow me to explain what rawdogging a class means to me. It is that feeling that you can show up to class with absolutely no writing tools or technological items on your person: notebooks, pens, and whatnot. You must have immense trust in yourself to think you can sit in a class, almost absolutely barren, consuming and storing information and knowledge for later recollection. I have massive respect for that.

After my physics class, I dumped my bag in the physics lounge and made my way to Vector Calculus with Professor Tom, where I always take notes. The experiment was slightly tainted since I brought my phone with me, but not having my phone on me was too scary a thought. 

There was an intense moment of betrayal initially, where the person always sitting in front of me abandoned their seat to go sit somewhere else. This led me to have an immediate, unobstructed vision of the front of the class, and Dr. S of me. Feigning bravery, I made eye contact and nodded. It is not that serious, I convinced myself. 

As the class started, and I say this not for the sake of embellishment but for an honest documentation of my feelings, my heart started beating a lot faster. It was greatly unnatural and unnerving for me to see the professor write down really important math concepts on the whiteboard and not jot it down in my notebook. As Dr.S introduced the list of the four major conics, I had an overwhelming urge to either commit it to memory or whip out my phone and take a picture of the board. I had to remind myself of the mission at stake here and let go. Instead, I directed my attention to what he was actually saying and making sense of it. I was able to understand a lot more than I ever have when taking notes. Who knew active listening could work wonders? Not me.

So, my final verdict (for now) is in: raw dogging a class is so much fun. It was quite frustrating at first, but incredibly liberating without the need to micromanage and write down everything the professor says as you send your brain into an aneurysm. You live, and you cry, and you learn, and then you realize that none of it is all that serious to warrant space in this paper. Just do what you gotta do to pass, girl.

Featured Image: Ezekiel Kingsbury’25