Head on desk, eyes glazed and unfocused, cell phone held under your desk as you pray that a new text message will save you from your boredom.

Sound familiar? You're in that dreaded class that makes you want to shoot yourself in the face just so you can avoid going. It is "that class" you're taking so you can fulfill "that requirement" — insert eye roll and groan. Although it's true that sometimes we need to be pushed in a new direction in order to become more open-minded or discover a new interest, making you take "those classes" is not the path to success.

The ideology behind the University of Wisconsin's general education requirements is rooted in the very admirable desire to make every student "well-rounded," or proficient in a variety of disciplines. However, since the requirements usually do not relate to students' interests in any way, there is no opportunity to become acquainted with these courses on a personal level, which in turn fails to foster knowledge or curiosity.

The first two years of our undergraduate careers are supposedly a time for exploration –who remembers being told to "just take whatever you want?" However, in reality, this time is spent frantically trying to figure out a direction without really being allowed to see what we enjoy learning. Time and energy are devoted to searching for a class that will fulfill a literature or physical science credit, rather than one that simply interests the student. This system can render a sophomore no closer to realizing his or her true passion than a year earlier. With the absence of enthusiasm for the material comes decreased motivation to do well or to actually learn something, and the large size of most lectures doesn't aid in personalizing a class from which you are already somewhat mentally removed.

The level of mental and emotional investment in coursework that comes with taking Intro to the Middle East because you actually want to learn about Israeli-Palestinian affairs is undermined by scanning the timetable for a "p" or an "I" and then choosing the least painful-seeming class of the bunch.

A solution to this problem would allow the prospective chemistry-art-political science student time to explore each of these fields to provide a basis for declaring her concentration; it certainly would grant my Spanish major roommate the chance to study the language and culture from a political perspective. And maybe I could finally take that painting class just because I want to try it out.

It's understandable for an academic institution to want to lay some kind of foundation intending for important disciplines to be covered, especially those that expose students to modern-day issues. However, it is more important that the foundation is relevant to the student, even if this means that it must include fewer classes because it is this sense of importance on a personal level that has the power to create curiosity and drive for the subject matter. The university's goal to create a graduate "engaging in life-long learning in a continually changing world" will be fulfilled best not by making students take as many courses as possible in as many disciplines as possible, but rather by planting the desire to continue education, whether formally or informally, post-college.

The way for this to work is to bring requirements, at least in some way, into the sphere of a student's interest, which can be done by broadening the range that allows a requirement to be met. At the University of Rochester in New York, for instance, all the university's courses are split into three categories: Humanities, Social Sciences, and Natural Sciences and Engineering. Students are required to take a "cluster" in the categories not covered by their majors/minors. A cluster consists of a set three courses united by a theme, such as Earth and Environmental Sciences or Film and Media Studies. Because the cluster groups the courses in such a way, similar to a compressed major, students can frame a subject that attracts them within the framework of a previously unfamiliar field. This approach has fewer specific requirements with a greater effort placed on tailoring the curriculum to suit the students' desires. So if John Smith is exposed to science in a way that ties it into his love for philosophy, he is more likely to display future interest in science than if he were to choose a random geography class that sounds like it'll be an easy A.

So what makes you the more "well-rounded" student? Is it acing your Timetabling 101 course and taking as many slacker requirement classes as possible, or is it your thorough understanding of the subjects that inspire your passion and devotion? If the administration truly expects us to become "citizen[s] of the world" upon graduation, then one would hope it would want us to actually attend our classes. If we pride ourselves on being such a progressive campus, it is time we moved past this archaic system.

Hannah Shtein ([email protected]) is a sophomore majoring in philosophy and religious studies.