College: Part II, Hunter College

• Lori Palminteri
• Uncategorized
• January 12, 2015

If there was anything I was a genius at, it was scheduling.  I made my schedule so that I only had to go to the city three days a week.  Also, I took classes that filled multiple requirements towards my degree.  Every college has these bullshit “core” classes that you have to take.  Hunter was no exception.  But I took classes that interested me, or at least, met the requirements to fill multiple core classes.  Like, African American Literature.  African American literature counted as a core class for culture, reading/writing, and something else that was such bullshit I forgot.  I’m an English nerd that loves to read.  Maya Angelou and Langston Hughes are great!  I figured it would be an easy and fun class for me.  Boy, was I wrong.  That class was taught by the most racist person I ever met.  She was an older black lady and on the first day of class she said she was disappointed that there were an equal amount of white and black kids in the class.  She was so ignorant and incompetent.  I didn’t want to drop the class because it filled three requirements.  Every week, we had to write a relfection on a reading she assigned.  After the first couple weeks, I had a feeling she didn’t read the assignments.  I felt that she just arbitrarily put grades on the paper.  The next assignment, I simply handed in the same paper as the week before.  When I got it back, she wrote, “good job” on the top and I got an 87.  My theory was correct.  I wish I saved some of the following papers I wrote, because they were hilarious.  Basically, the first two paragraphs, I would mention whatever piece of literature was assigned, then I would write about the most absurd things.  I called her a bigot and said she was unfit for teaching the future of America in the essays and still, every week, she wrote on the top of my paper, “good job!”  Some students blatenly drank beers during class.  I too showed up tipsy from time to time.  I got an A in the class, then I wrote her a horrible review.

Besides that class, everything else was great.  Especially the Media program.  I had some very talented and inspirational professors including a screenwriter, Mick Hurbis-Cherrier and Brendan Deneen (check out his book, “The Ninth Circle”).  I was producing my own scripts, getting better at editing, and learning a lot.  Most of my classes were writing classes.  I didn’t have a lot of tests, but I always had a lot of papers due.  I was not a procrastinator at all.  In fact, I often demeaned my friends who waited last minute to write papers.  I’m a dick.

The professors were encouraging, but they didn’t sugar coat the fact that so few of us would actually succeed as writers and directors.  Many of my professors were filmmakers and writers aside from their teaching job.  That’s what I really liked about them.  They had real world experience.  They knew their shit.  Do you know how rare it is to become a successful television writer and/or comedian.  Imagine how big your ego must be to think that you, out of all the kids in your college program/open mic comics would be the one to succeed?  I had a little bit of talent, sure.  But Hunter wasn’t like Suffolk.  I wasn’t the stand out smart kid.  There were a lot of talented kids.  There were a lot talented comedians.  I wasn’t seen or treated like I was special like I was at Suffolk (which was a relief).  Talent isn’t enough.  I’m a competitive fuck, and I will outwork people just to outwork them.  This is why I never had a boyfriend in college.

As much as I enjoyed my classes at Hunter, I wanted to drop out of college.  After college, I was going to pursue stand-up.  I knew this.  But I felt I invested too much time to just quit.  Also, I was aware that having a college degree would help me get a job (hopefully as a writer (FYI: that degree hasn’t done shit for me)), so I didn’t make any rash decisions.   It was, however, my goal to graduate early.

I took winter courses and summer courses to speed up my progress.  I paid for those courses out of my pocket. I also paid for my final semester out of pocket, leaving only three years of loans from the most inexpensive schools in New York.  This would prove to be a genius decision, as I was able to pay off my student loans before I turned 24.  If you know you’re going to pursue an art, I highly recommend not burying yourself with college debt.  I only had about $15,000 in debt when I graduated.  If I had $60,000+ like most college grads, I wouldn’t be in the same position I am in today.  The less debt you have, the more freedom you have.  

Hunter College is the most diverse college in the country.  In any class, there were no minorities.  I grew up in a town that is 99% white.  And at Hunter, there seemed to be an equal amount of kids from all walks of life.  And a lot of students were from different countries.  This is also when I learned how terrifying the American educational system actually is.  During a history class, the professor was teaching something that I already knew all about because I had learned it in high school.  After class, I was actually bitching about how easy it was, until another student told me that they were never taught that material in high school.  Then, in other classes I started inquiring about some of the students high school education.  I always thought my high school education was lousy, but compared to most public schools in the country, I had a pretty fucking stellar education.  That terrifies me.

The weird thing about such a culturally diverse school, is the lack of intermingling.  During common hour, all the different clubs had tables.  It was like the U.N.  Every country was represented.  But there was almost no cross over.  The Japanese kids didn’t join the South American club.  The South Americans didn’t join the Turkish club.  The Turkish kids didn’t join the Russian club.  Everyone stuck to their own.  I was a big fan of the Thai club.  Because they sold big Thai Iced Teas for just a dollar at common hour, and I’m a big fan of those Thai Iced Teas.

I joined the Bible club.  What was an atheist doing in a Bible club?  Well, they had Ben and Jerry’s ice cream.  I love free Ben and Jerry’s ice cream.  So I attended Bible club, shoot the shit about Jesus, eat some ice cream, then go on my way.

I didn’t want to just attend college.  I wanted something out of it.  I was paying enough for it, wasn’t I?  And when you have that attitude, you will learn. I took another internship.  This time, at Governor’s Comedy Club.  I had just started getting some work at the club, and I told them I wanted to intern there.  They get free labor, so they said yes.  It was a good way for me to get comfortable there.  Governor’s Comedy Club’s are still my home clubs, and I love performing there.  It was kind of a bullshit way to earn credits, but I did learn some things.  For instance, most people and comics think that comedy clubs are making a fortune.  They are not.  The taxes for New York state’s business is unbelievable.  I was an art major.  I had almost no business education whatsoever, so I actually learned a few things interning for a small business.  I also proposed an independent project for credits, and created a webseries about a sociopath with mild telepathic powers that no one else saw (not unlike Michael Keaton’s character in Birdman). 

College wasn’t easy.  It was hard.  I had to work at it.  Trust me, my whole college career was riddled with panic attacks.  There were many times I’d find a lonely corner in the library where I would hyperventilate and cry from the stress.   

I did graduate early with a 4.0 GPA in my major and a 3.8 overall GPA.  In three and a half years, I received my bacholors degree, which is super rare, especially for transfer student.  I didn’t want to go to my graduation, but I’m glad I did.  The valedictorian was this Korean kid who had literally escaped his country to come to the U.S.  When he got here, he didn’t speak a lick of English.  He got some shitty job, and taught himself English.  He hadn’t seen or heard from his family in over seven years.  He has no idea if they’re even alive.  Here I am, thinking I’ve accomplished something great,  but I will never endure the obstacles he had to overcome.  And I never will experience anything that comes close to his hardship.  He accomplished the impossible, at the cost of everything.  It was both inspirational, and made me feel like a spoiled American.   

I earned my confidence in college (which I would later lose in the year 2013).  I unlocked a part of myself I didn’t know existed before.  My brother thinks I’m some sort of a genius.  Au contraire.  I just work at it.  Comedy especially doesn’t come easy to me.  That’s why I love it so much.  Easy is boring.  When I graduated, I had that semi-delusional, stary-eyed view of the world that my dreams were possible.  I knew I would have to work for it, however.  And that’s how I want it.  I will pay for my success through trial and error, and a series of failures. 

My college degree is buried in a closet somewhere in my parents house, where it will remain until my parents decide to move.  Then it will probably end up in my closet, getting more yellow every year that passes.  A college degree is meaningless.  Any idiot can get a college degree.  I never had that “college experience” of crazy parties, and getting laid.  When I hear people reminisce about their college years, it’s always about how wild shit was, and drunken tales.  I have quite a few of those tales too, don’t get me wrong.  I’m far from innocent.  But my college experience was one of finding my passion and learning what it takes to achieve it.  Like my degree, collecting dust somewhere, I sometimes forget that.