During the last few weeks of April, when even the slightest, most insignificant hint of a summer breeze could erode the raw memories of our abysmal prairie winter, I found the concept of attending summer classes enormously off-putting.

Who in their right mind would voluntarily relegate themselves to a stuffy classroom when there was so much summer to be had? Nuts to a speedy education! There’s no snow on the ground — in Saskatchewan, I’m pretty sure that means we’re legally obligated to be outdoors, playing ultimate Frisbee, or beersby, or some other flying-disc related activity.

Shoes? Where we're going, we don't need shoes.

“It’s break or bust,” I told myself over-and-over again, shoving all thoughts of looming summer school firmly out of my mind. I buried my head in the sand of studying for finals and only pulled it out again following an inevitable post-exam, drug-fuelled spiral into academic apathy.

In the end, none of that really helped. No amount of cognitive dissonance (drug-fuelled or otherwise) was going to save me from the truth: I had enrolled in summer classes months prior to my end-of-term trepidations, and there was no going back.

It’s mid-June now. More than one month into the summer, one class down, and half way through the next. Things have not gone according to my expectations.

Like my wacky and unexpectedly enlightening experience with Luddism in the classroom, my summer school odyssey has been surprisingly eye-opening. As a result, I thought I should compile the most intriguing aspects of this newfound, sunny perspective on summer classes, so anyone even remotely curious about off-season academia could get a brief glimpse of what they’re in for.

It’s all about the atmosphere.

You would be hard-pressed to find a more relaxing place to spend your time in the summer than a sprawling, sunshiny university campus — tropical island resorts and the Playboy Mansion notwithstanding. The University of Saskatchewan has one of the best looking, most well groomed campuses in Western Canada. As an added bonus, like everything else in the prairies, it’s monumentally more attractive during the snow-free months.

Tranquil studying is the name of the game. This is crucial when you’re attempting to condense three months of course material into three weeks. You really can’t go wrong sitting down to read or study anywhere on campus, minus any spot near the colossal eyesore of a construction site still occupying half the Bowl.

“Big deal”, you may say, “who cares how pretty the university is. I’m going to be stuck in class anyway.”

Very true, imaginary cynic. Still, there’s something undeniably rejuvenating about hanging out on campus during the summer, before or after classes. It’s a combination of the warm weather, sunshine and sparsely populated pathways and lawns. The trees bathe everything in the shade of a full, green canopy — a dramatic improvement from their wintry incarnations: uninviting, skeletal silhouettes against a soul-suckingly depressing grey sky. Who can stand waking up in the morning, let alone going to class, when you have that grim sight to look forward to?

Spending time on campus during the summer is almost absurdly appealing following the unparalleled pain-in-the-ass that is our lives on the frozen tundra. Keep in mind, though: eventually, you do have to go inside.

What? Why? Oh, right. Classes.

As much as you may want to, you can’t frolic on the grass or the nearest restaurant patio all day. You will actually have to attend your classes on a semi-regular basis. On the bright side, when the time finally comes to reluctantly plunk yourself down in front of a professor, you’re in for a decidedly different experience in comparison to a typical, full-term class.

In fact, the summer class lifestyle is so different, I’m convinced I’ve stumbled across the university’s best kept educational secret.

Taking three-week long summer classes is like intravenously infusing credits directly into your academic bloodstream. You completely bypass all the unnecessary, time-consuming aspects of a full class: movie days, recaps, catch-up periods. Summer classes are whittled down to the bare-bone essentials. Despite this, I’ve found that they don’t sacrifice any of the content or substance that constitutes a good class. They’re two-and-a-half hours of ridiculously densely packed learning.

It’s all over in a month. Bust out an essay or two, crush a final exam and then — bam! You just earned three credits in roughly the same amount of time it takes a full-term class to go over the course outline.

It’s all too good to be true! Stop filling my head with lies!

Alright, I’m hamming it up a little bit, but give me a break. I’m trying to embellish the silver lining of summer school, not a backyard barbeque. You’re still going to class, which means you still have work to do, and when the last week of assignments and the final exam roll by you have to kick yourself into a higher gear.

But how could I, or anyone for that matter, logically argue against acquiring credits and stuffing your brain full of delicious knowledge so incredibly quickly, during the most gorgeous time of the year to be on campus? This is the recurring thought that floats through my head at least six or seven times per class, when I catch a view of the blue sky through the window and ask myself, “What the crap am I doing here?”

When it comes down to it, we’re talking about knocking out classes that you’re going to have to take for your degree anyway.

If you’re like me and took an academic mulligan halfway through your university career, or you can’t bare the thought of being in school for any longer than absolutely necessary, you may as well take a summer class or two. You probably won’t regret it — but you can kiss goodbye any dreams of a professional career in ultimate Frisbee.

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image: Robby Davis