Worst Class: Art of the Western World

The worst class I’ve ever taken? Easy, Art of the Western World, or as I liked to call it... FART HISTORY.

First off, I was supposed to have this class at 12:30, and it got switched to 9:30 am so I was already not feeling it.

Seton Hall loves to make us well rounded by requiring a certain amount of fine arts, philosophy courses, religion and more. Stereotypically, my teacher was an aspiring sculptor man who spent his days teaching us about fart history.

This class was straight up harder than many of the biology classes I have taken for my major. I have never studied something so diligently in my life. He loved to throw sculptures and paintings at us and twiddle his fingers thinking to himself “they’ll never guess this one”. This guy lived to stump us. Luckily my roommate and I slayed the midterm so he paid extra attention to us because we were such hardworking fart history students.

Picture it like this, it’s 9:30 am on a Monday morning and the monotone voice of a man passionate about cave paintings and all of the world’s David sculptures (there are like 20) is lecturing you into transient boredom for the next hour and fifteen minutes. You were captive to the world of fart history, and at the end he would say “make sure you’re reading your textbook”. UGH! As if!

The coolest part about this class and one takeaway was that it was so hard and specific, that when I went to the MET in NYC I actually felt cultured. I always liked and appreciated art but the amount of content that needed to be memorized made me want to stipple my eyes out.