Physics Might Make Me Religious

Graphics by Téa Sklar

Now that we’ve passed the semester’s midpoint, I can feel judgment day drawing near, not from God, but from my professor’s gradebook. I’m succumbing to gravitational despair. I’ve seen the light and it’s fluorescent, flickering over my exam bubble sheets. I’m losing my faith in my ability to pass introductory physics. 

As an English Textual Studies major, and a student who hasn't taken a math credit since the age of 15, I’ve found myself unwillfully seated in the Stolkin Auditorium for PHY101–and I'm failing.I’ve taken to looking at the sky for any guidance, a sign or an anvil to take me out of my misery .

Before you make assumptions, yes, I’ve studied. I’ve attended the lectures, asked questions, read the textbook and attended the maze-runner that is physics clinic hours. I’ve gone so far as to touch grass, thinking maybe I just needed sunlight, but I’ve reached a point of no return. The South Campus trees cannot help me. I fear I need the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit looking over my shoulder , and into my Blackboard upcoming assignments, because the only thing that can help me at this rate is the Lord. 

I am lost and desperate. Lucky for me, this is the fundamental equation for catholic conversion.

As scripture tells us, a wise man, John the Baptist Mulaney, once said, “I am very small and I have no money. So, you can imagine the kind of stress I am under.” I’ve never met the Pope, but Mulaney is from Chicago, and that’s close enough for my theology.

Baptize me in the s-shaped hottub, feed me the Eucharist in Ernie Davis dining so that I may find the strength to carry on. Let me confess in the Hall of Languages advising office to save me from the academic purgatory I’ve found myself in. Anoint my weary head with coffee; my soul is willing, but my attention span is weak and bless those by my side for there is the kingdom within partial credit. 

To my fellow lost souls: may your clicker questions be merciful, your curve be generous and your tears dry quickly. Go forth, and may your 8a.m. lab reports be ever in your favor. Allow me to fall now and rise in three days time. May we join hands and say amen.