Doctor shmockter

It’s always been like this – Arab professors INSIST that we call them Doctor. (Not sir, not Ma’am, Not Mr. or Mrs/ or even Ms., it has to be DOCTOR). It always bothered me when a girl goes “But sir, ….” And the professor has to interrupt, not caring what her question was, and says “Not sir, DOCTOR.”. Like who the hell cares. We all know you’re a doctor. That’s why you’re teaching us. Why can’t you just focus on the question? In any case, students usually call their professors “doctor”, but in mid-sentence, or in a conversation, it seems easier to say ‘sir’ or ‘ma’am’, why can't they just accept that?.

On the other hand, every Non-Arab professor I have met actually wanted us to call them by their first names. All of them would say “Call me whatever you like.” And it was kind of uplifting, not worrying too much about labels. If you called them Doctor, sir, Mr., miss, Mrs.,or used their first name, they were cool with it. And I always complained and nitpicked at this fact– why do the Arab professors (especially the women) insist on us calling them Doctor, but non-Arab ones are fine with anything. What is this need to put a distance between us and them? And was there a reason that only the Arab professors persist with this or was it just a coincidence that the ones who insisted on it were Arab?

In any case, for the first time in my life, a few days ago I met an Arab professor who insisted on us calling him by his first name. On our first class with him he said: “Call me anything you like, Doctor, Sir, A**** (his first name), Madam (we all chuckled), whatever, I don’t care. Just as long as you do raise your hand in class and call me.” And I thought what! Maybe it’s not that they’re Arabs, maybe it’s just that the ones I met who insisted on name tags were coincidentally Arabs! And I was happy – it’s got nothing to do with culture, it’s got everything to do with personality and character.

Of course, my cheerfulness didn’t last when I found out that our unusual Arab professor has actually spent more than 30 years or so in the West, teaching non-Arab students, and has lived most of his life in non-Arab countries. Basically his personality/character was shaped somewhere out of the Arab world.

Well thanks. Now I know that it must have something to do with society. And I hope to be the first Arab professor ever born and raised in and Arab world who insists on her students calling her whatever in the world they want, just as long as they raise their hands in class and call me.

Superstition

I’m not a very investigative person, but I do go through phases where I analyze myself (for no reason other than to have something to talk about, and who loves anything more than talking about their selves?)
In any case, I have made an interesting discovery, and once I mentioned my behavior I found a few people who share this same conduct with me. Superstition. I don’t consider myself a very superstitious person, I think I read somewhere ages ago that women ordinarily resort to superstitious thoughts when they can’t explain something, but for my part, when I’m under any kind of pressure, then I get really superstitious. This has been going on for so long that I didn’t even realize it, until of course I found myself more and more engrossed in it– for example, if I have an exam, I have to put on full makeup. For some reason I cannot perform well in an exam if I am not lavishly made-up. When my friends see me with make-up, they know right away that I have an exam. It’s like a ritual. I usually put make-up everyday, but when I go all out with the hair and the eye shadows, then its war. Same thing with clothes, if I ever wear something and do badly, then I never wear it again for anything important. If I have a meeting and I wear a red blouse, and then during the meeting there’s an argument, or I say something stupid, or on the whole the meeting does not go well, then I never wear that red blouse again for anything important. Ever. Same goes for shoes and jewelry. And somehow it works. Deep down I know that this is totally irrational, unreasonably, and somewhat absurd, but for some reason I take comfort with this foolish faith that one thing has a lot to do with another. Miss M suggested that I once do it anyway: wear something that I’ve worn before and things didn’t work out, just to see if they don’t work out again. But I think I’ve psyched myself so much into believing in this that I might unconsciously do badly just to prove to myself that my superstition is true. In any case I’m enjoying this. It’s like how my brother has to say goodnight 3 or 4 times before he can actually sleep, or my mother has to hold the remote in her hand even if she’s not changing the channel, or my friend has to keep her mobile right in front of her on the table during exams, and my other friend has to swear and then pray if a black cat ever crosses her path when she’s driving… many other things around me I’ve noticed that people take comfort in even though, if they think about it sensibly, it makes no sense at all.
That’s it for today. I haven’t blogged in ages but now university has started and I have a lot of breaks between classes so I guess I’m back.