It occurred to me earlier today that I very thoroughly enjoyed this past fall semester and that during that semester I didn't give the semester as much credit as it was due.
Classes such as art history which were such a drag to me because of the incessant need to write essays, but of course in hind sight I think of the class fondly and with much joy.  It was amazing learning about all of the great artists, who weren't necessarily aware of it, but were recording moments in history which otherwise wouldn't known to us.  This also led me and my class mates to ask, "when is an artist, an artist?", as I was taking Art history 1, which covers the beginning of time until the renaissance.  Up until and even after Jesus' time is still riddled with speculation.  From what we can tell it seems many of the first craftsman were making totems, tools for rituals or cave drawings which were often times purely associated with survival rather than artistic appreciation as Michelangelo's Sistine chapel is.  So for me it was an interesting journey between art history 1 and my world civ 1 class which basically followed art history 1 with the exception of when we dipped into China.
There were many opportunities for me to exam various religions like Manichaeism, for example, which I knew nothing of prior to my history classes.  Along with learning of religion through history I also gained a better perspective on religion first hand after getting into a heated skirmish with a past friend.  Although that situation never came to a positive fruition, from my perspective, I appreciated the experience and it allowed for self reflection which I couldn't have gained through other means.
As I've matured more I have learned that every experience, including school, which although seems like a barrier now, is another step on life's journey.  It's not about seeing things as individualistic but rather as a whole in which every experience is valid in complementing ways.