Most classes need not come with a health warning, but I've discovered one at Columbia that could do with a disclaimer. The class is a seminar on the "Palestinian and Israeli Security Dilemmas", taught by an enthusiastic and erudite professor who smiles more often than one might expect for someone teaching such a grave subject.
Last week she explained that the emphasis is on class participation, for which we will also be graded. Each week we are to read 3-4 articles and take it in turns to prepare short presentations. Sounds alright so far.
At 4.10pm the class commenced. By 4.30pm I was on the edge of my seat, my heart was racing and my palm were sweaty. Probably my face was red too. I could tell some of my colleagues were pretty fired up to: a girl who'd been serving in Iraq, another who'd worked for an NGO in the West Bank, a doctoral student in Jewish Studies and then, the most fired up of all, an Israeli citizen with some pretty vocal opinions.
I emerged from the class totally drained and my respect for the professor even greater. Throughout she had remained smiling, calm, the perfect moderator. Her face wasn't even pink. I walked out of the class with a Pakistani colleague and confessed that I was exhausted. "Me too", she said in a lovely accent, "and I think it's only going to get worse!"
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