As the semester has progressed, I can't say that I'm on my way to becoming the next Gabriel Garcia-Marquez or Jorge Luis Borges, but I can express myself coherently and have been exposed to authors that I had never read. It spread into my own writing and in my head I have a veritable nursery of ideas that are germinating into perhaps a short story, poem, or (horror of horrors) a novel. I have learned much about not only the intricacies of the Spanish language, but also of the untapped potential within me.

However, there is a downside to all this personal growth, mainly my precarious status in the class. There is something awkward about being an auditor in a room of disgruntled, stressed-out undergraduates. Technically, I don't have to do all of the assignments. In some ways, it is harder to be an auditor. I have to be more driven and motivated than the actual students. There is no final grade at stake. Hours spent in front of a computer screen churning out essays and caffeine-fueled nights of reading are done voluntarily because of my desire to learn and improve.

The tension between the auditors and the students make this situation uncomfortable. As the auditor, I sit in my seat and pay attention to the instructor and try not to participate too much, because I do not want to overstep my bounds. However, when the professor is staring at a class demanding a simple answer, it wears down on me, and up goes my hand, and out comes the answer. Relief spreads across the teacher's face but the underclassman with the crazy hair who sits across from me gives me a lethal stare. Yikes!

Having already gone through college, I have a different perspective and set of priorities. I don't have to take this to fulfill a foreign language requirement or because I'm a major. I'm there because I'm curious. I'm hungry for knowledge. I know that these students want to learn, but the resentment is uncalled for. I do not want to one up them or show that I'm better than them. I just want an equal opportunity to learn.