As a former college language professor, I was always happy if the drunk little fucks could show up a majority of the time and conjugate a verb. I wanted to indoctrinate them all as well, but was lazy and didn't get around to it.
Fortunately the experience of meeting all sorts of fellow students who may have been different from themselves seemed to round them out a little before they went back to McMansion Acres for Thanksgiving.
A&M was the strangest job I ever had, I would never have worked there except I failed to perform any recon. Thujones does not exaggerate the yokeldom of the place. One day in the language building I encountered an old guy, decked out in Aggy shit including straw hat, chip on his shoulder, he told me he was there because his niece or granddaughter or whoever told him she had professors from foreign countries, and he was a-aimin to fix that by talkin with the high-ups. It was like a deleted scene from O Brother Where Art Thou.
I told him that that was bad, for sure, and I didn't know about other departments but we were Foreign Languages, so we sorta kinda had to hire the occasional foreigner.
"Chinese?" he said.
No sir I don't think we have any Chinese but we do have several Mexicans and at least one Frenchwoman but she's OK.
"Well I heard it was Chinese."
Well sir there probably are some, I bet if you poke around campus some more you'll find them.
"I'm here to get to the bottom of it."
Yes sir. /Then I went off to drink myself into a stupor which is how I dealt with counting the days in BCS.