I've decided to quit feeling guilty when I miss class.

On my way to a lecture last fall, I was briefly detained on the South Oval by an amazing dog that can catch sticks and do back flips and taxes. I very nearly skipped class to spend my afternoon chasing squirrels with my dog, but then felt a horrible sinking sensation. Not only did I feel terrible about letting my professor down but also knew I had a limited number of absences before my grade dropped. I threw a final stick, which the dog caught while riding a unicycle, and trudged to class.

I have since asked myself: In 10 years, which would I remember? That particular lecture, or releasing a golden retriever into the library? Probably neither, as there's a good chance I'll have a drinking problem by then.

My point is that neither guilt nor fear should have motivated my attendance. A desire to learn, maybe, or the shrewd bet that I would test better with that day's notes. If I didn't have either of these inclinations, I should have stuck it out with the dog.

This is, however, how a large number of people treat college -- like an extension of high school. In this view, where a collegiate education is reduced to grades 13-16, professors turn into babysitters who demand attendance and meter out busywork.

College should be internally motivated. If you wouldn't regularly and voluntarily attend class, then you might not belong in college. For professors, harsh attendance policies only reinforce a system of external motivation.

What recently gave me internal motivation was the sudden and astounding epiphany that I'm paying to be here. It didn't really occur to me until November that when I graduate, I will be missing several thousand dollars. For many people this is all too obvious. People like myself, who went straight from high school to college with no inkling of an alternative, are more apt to depreciate the experience.

Others have a different perspective. I know veterans, retired adults and students who work full time to fund their education. Of the many college students I know who have fathered children, several are aware of it and seem to live with them. These folks have seen the gaping maw of the Real World and know that a degree is the best parachute to jump in with. To these people, compulsory attendance is redundant. They already want to be here.

A friend recently pointed out the interesting oddity that college is one of few places where the people you pay money address you by your first name. (In my case, a surname is usually involved, but under questionable circumstances, as in, "Mr. Heaton, class began 10 minutes ago," or "Mr. Heaton, please stop making those noises while you eat your cotton candy," or "Mr. Heaton, for the last time, you can't bring a bean bag in here.")

I'm not criticizing professors for using first names. That's perfectly fine. I'm pointing out that there is a degree of consumerism in college education.

Ideally, my professorial relationships should be that of a mentor and pupil, or perhaps intellectual poker buddies. Barring those, a consumer exchange is still preferable to a high school outlook; a cold trade of cash for knowledge.

Although it's an odd purchase to pay for college without bothering to show up, it's still the consumer's prerogative. If I've paid for the pizza, I can eat it, not eat it or throw it at Norman Maynard. The choice is mine.

There have been instances where, based on the class agenda, I knew beforehand the bulk of content covered in class on a particular day. In instances like this, I don't think I should feel guilty about doing something else with my time. It doesn't mean that I like or respect my professors any less. I have bought education, and, in some cases, choose to forego it to work on an application, study for a test, do homework or meet with my parole officer.

The majority of the time I either want or need to be in class, so my professors shouldn't get too hopeful that I'll let theirs run smoothly by avoiding it.

But if that dog comes back, I am going to go chase squirrels with it -- in the library.

-- Andrew Heaton is a history and religious studies junior. His column appears every other Monday, and he can be reached at opinion@oudaily.com.
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