Almost every class you take at the University has some amount of reading. Technically, if you go to college, you should be able to read, and for some odd reason, the professors here expect you to be able to read fairly well. But to be able to keep up with every bit of reading assigned for every class of a normal course load, why, that would be a miracle of literacy.
We can't do all the reading. We really can't. This is why we feel compelled to laugh when our teachers give us lists of suggested further readings. So how do we get through these terribly embarrassing things called discussions when it's obvious we haven't even picked up the book?
Here's one thing not to do that I actually did once: I brought last night's reading to class in its shrink wrap. Luckily, my teacher was late and I had a chance to shred through the plastic and remove all evidence of this, but the rest of the class knew my secret and realized what I was doing when I raised my hand to "participate" with extremely generalized statements that often echoed the comments of the person who participated before me.
I don't know about you, but I don't have endless supplies of paper and printer ink. I also don't have the patience to scroll through a digitalized layout of a 17th-century book printed on papyrus with berry ink. Therefore, I believe that Toolkit is no more than a kit for tools. This philosophy makes up for the majority of my unpreparedness. I see you, girl with hole-punched, leather-bound Toolkit printouts. Why do you even go to college? Go work in a printing press. If you are like me and hate everything that Toolkit stands for, I advise you to do this: print out one random page of toolkit material. Bring this around to every class and mark it up. If everyone pulls out their perfect-looking Toolkit packs, pull that out. Look at that in-depth close reading you did! It fools teachers every time.
Most slackers would advise you to sit in the back. This is where I beg to differ. Unless you need to work on a project for your studio art class that is due just after the class you are in, sitting in the back lets everyone know that you are not prepared. You can sit in the front and still work on papers for other classes. This is why laptops were created.
When it starts to become that time of day when teachers like to call on people, flip through your book furiously. Don't take your eyes off the page. Stare at your book so intensely that if you were Matilda, it would go flying clear across the room. You're trying to find that perfect passage you read last night ... where was it? Oh right. There. Take out your pen and start underlining random things. Make comments in the margins. But make it look like this process is very important. You can't be disturbed by your teacher's petty calling on you right now. I think I bought the used "Contemporary Drama" book that once belonged to someone who did this. They had underlined the word "pigs" and written, "Capitalism!" in the margin. I commended their brave effort.
If you happen to look up, look confident. Teachers love to pick on weaklings. Smile all you want, but I wouldn't advise nodding. Nodding had been fine my entire school career until this semester. I have this teacher who loves it when people get really into discussion and debate across the room. If I nod aimlessly in his class, he thinks it will further enrich discussion if he says, "Marissa, I see you nodding. What do you agree with about this statement?" Even the slightest bit of prolonged eye contact in this particular class can be fatal, but this is definitely an extreme case. Most teachers are too meek or aren't sure enough of your name to attempt this evil stunt.
I know it is tempting to draw in your notebook when you really have nothing to write, but overall, it is a bad idea. If your French Revolution teacher sees a caricature that resembles him being beheaded by a guillotine, it might actually make him more likely to call on you.
Of course, you are going to want to participate once in a while. They say there are participation grades. No one really knows what that means, but it has to mean something, right? In case these actually exist, come prepared to class once a month. Wow everyone in your English discussion with your fresh-from-SparkNotes in-depth analyses. Tell them all about the Greek mythological origin of all of the characters' names and how that reflects the societal constructs of the period. You still don't actually have to pick up your book. Just make sure you leave all printouts of SparkNotes at home. In case you've never actually been on the Toolkit site, they look starkly different.
Ideally, you are supposed to read everything and go to the gym two hours a day and tutor at Madison House and look perfect for class even though you didn't have time to sleep or shower, because that's just what the University expects. But if you aren't always able to spend your nights as the Energizer Reader, you can at least become skilled in the stealthy art of appearing to know what everyone is discussing.