By Mae Waugh

This is now my second semester at Northeastern, and I like to think I learned a few things last semester. Of course I learned things in class, like the definition of the derivative, who purchased Louisiana and what the heck a mollusk is. However, I also learned a few things I actually needed to know. I learned dining dollars are not the same as Husky dollars. I learned the Fens is not a safe place to explore late at night. And I learned book prices are atrocious.

After spending way too much money on books last semester and not even needing the majority of them, I was unable to sell half of them back. I decided I would learn from this mistake and buy my books off www.amazon.com this time.

So, the day before classes I headed over to the Curry Student Center, with the printout of my schedule and a pencil in hand. I made my way through the zoo, a.k.a. our friendly campus bookstore, and headed to the area where the books are stacked on shelves in some sort of order I have yet to understand.

Down each aisle I searched for the books that would match the odd combinations of numbers and letters making up my schedule. When I finally found the first book, I braced myself for the price I would see, for my roommate had warned me all of her books were about $100 each.

I peeked at the number. Seventy-two dollars and no used books available. This is robbery. With rising tuition prices, housing prices, activity fees, meal plans and health plans, one would think we might catch a break somewhere. Nope. Where does all of this money go? More importantly, where does our book money go?

I wrote the title, author, publisher and color of the book down on my schedule and continued my search. I wrote down all I needed to know about the books for each class. Tears welled up in my eyes as I began adding the numbers together in my head. I hadn’t even gotten to my last class yet.

Soon enough, I found my last class section, and with more difficulty, I found the two books. One was $20, thank goodness, and the other $105. One hundred and five dollars! That was the most expensive book so far to grace my list with its presence. I wrote down the title, but as I began to write down the author, I paused. The name looked somewhat familiar. Oh yes, it was my professor’s name.

I wrote the author and the publisher and the color of the book down on my paper, but I decided right then and there that I had no intention of buying that book.

I support professors writing their own books as well as assigning books for their class. What I do not think is fair, is for a teacher to write a book and then make all of his students buy it. I know he probably does not get the entire $105, but with 50 people in my class, that makes the total $5,250. Even one-tenth of that is some nice pocket cash.

Sorry professor, I will buy the other $20 book you assigned, but not one for $105. Who knows if by next semester you will have written a new book and make your next class read it and I won’t even be able to sell this one back. No, thanks.

Here’s my proposition: instead of you having us read your thoughts and ideas, which I am sure are interesting and insightful, on our own time why not just tell us all about them in class?

See you then.

– Mae Waugh is a freshman journalism major.