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The time had come. All my talk about wanting to finish my degree was finally coming to the point where I had to put up or shut up. Thirteen years of focusing primarily on being a wife and mother was about to come to an end, and I was about to focus on my own education again. So the night before the college orientation session I was predictably caught up in intense worry about what I was going to wear.

What do people wear to college these days? Should one dress up for college orientation, or do jeans suffice? I've spent five years now in mom-casual, but surely that is too mundane for a visit to a campus of higher learning?

I settled on khakis and a button down, striped shirt and brown loafers. I hoped this would portray the right combination of sophistication with a touch of casual confidence.

Once that momentous decision was out of the way, I focused on logistical problems. Orientation began at 9:00 am, but sign-in commenced at 8:30. I haven’t driven in rush hour traffic in five years, so I had no way to gauge how long my commute would take. After studying maps printed off the internet and talking with people who actually have to get up and drive in the mornings every day, I settled on leaving at 7:30.

This would be perfect – my older kids got on the school bus at 7:00. I would have thirty minutes to finish getting ready, and then leave with an entire hour to travel the distance that I was told would take me 45 minutes without traffic problems. Now that all the important things were out of the way, I could sleep. Tomorrow would be soon enough to worry about mundane concerns such as what classes I planned on registering for.

I woke up determined to put my plan into effect. I dressed quickly in my neatly laid out clothes, then brushed my teeth, applied light makeup and studied the result in the mirror. Unfortunately, I was faced with the glaring realization that in all my pre-operation planning I had neglected one thing. I forgot to purchase some hair dye and now my gray was showing.

This was bad. There would be a room full of bright, energetic eighteen year olds and I was to be the token gray haired old lady. The kids would look at me and say things like “Isn’t that sweet? The old lady is going to take some classes.”

There was nothing to be done for it, I had to move on and hope the rest of the plan stayed intact.

The first inkling I had that the planetary alignment favored Murphy’s Law came when my daughters wailed from downstairs “Mom! We just missed the bus.”

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I started this piece a few days ago and haven't finished it. Is it worth finishing?

I am never a good judge of which of my "slice of life" stories are entertaining or not. Ones I thought were terrible some people loved (and one even got published) and others I was proud of no one seemed to like.

[ December 09, 2004, 02:12 PM: Message edited by: Belle ]

Posts: 14428 | Registered: Aug 2001  |  IP: Logged | 

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On College Orientation, Or “Once More into the Breach We Go!”

The time had come. All my talk about wanting to finish my degree was finally coming to the point where I had to put up or shut up. Thirteen years of focusing primarily on being a wife and mother was about to come to an end, and I was about to focus on my own education again. So the night before the college orientation session I was predictably caught up in intense worry about what I was going to wear.

What do people wear to college these days? Should one dress up for college orientation, or do jeans suffice? I've spent five years now in mom-casual, but surely that is too mundane for a visit to a campus of higher learning?

I settled on khakis and a button down, striped shirt and brown loafers. I hoped this would portray the right combination of sophistication with a touch of casual confidence.

Once that momentous decision was out of the way, I focused on logistical problems. Orientation began at 9:00 am, but sign-in commenced at 8:30. I haven’t driven in rush hour traffic in five years, so I had no way to gauge how long my commute would take. After studying maps printed off the internet and talking with people who actually have to get up and drive in the mornings every day, I settled on leaving at 7:30.

This would be perfect – my older kids got on the school bus at 7:00. I would have thirty minutes to finish getting ready, and then leave with an entire hour to travel the distance that I was told would take me 45 minutes without traffic problems. Now that all the important things were out of the way, I could sleep. Tomorrow would be soon enough to worry about mundane concerns such as what classes I planned on registering for.

I woke up determined to put my plan into effect. I dressed quickly in my neatly laid out clothes, then brushed my teeth, applied light makeup and studied the result in the mirror. Unfortunately, I was faced with the glaring realization that in all my pre-operation planning I had neglected one thing. I forgot to purchase some hair dye and now my gray was showing.

This was bad. There would be a room full of bright, energetic eighteen year olds and I was to be the token gray haired old lady. The kids would look at me and say things like “Isn’t that sweet? The old lady is going to take some classes.”

There was nothing to be done for it, I had to move on and hope the rest of the plan stayed intact.

The first inkling I had that the planetary alignment favored Murphy’s Law came when my daughters wailed from downstairs “Mom! We just missed the bus.”

I had a fleeting moment where I almost gave into the temptation of screaming “Well, it’s you own fault, just walk to school!” Then I realized that forcing my kids to walk three miles along very busy roads was probably against one or more laws.

With admirable restraint I didn’t yell at all, but just scurried them into the minivan and drove them to school. I was now about twenty minutes behind schedule, but no early morning catastrophe was going to keep me from my date with my own destiny.

I set out, confident that I had overcome all obstacles (with the exception of my gray hair, which I was steadfastly trying to ignore.) With trusty internet map printout in hand, I drove to the community college.

Now was not the time for me to discover that internet maps and directions should not be considered one hundred percent reliable. What looked so much like a left turn, and what was listed in the driving directions as “Turn Left on 24th Street,” is in actuality, a right turn. I know that now. I did not know that at 8:15 in the morning, on my way to orientation and in the grips of a panic attack.

Somehow I managed to find the college, park, and make my way to the student center. Some nice kids almost young enough to be my own children directed me to the room where orientation was to be held.

The initial part of orientation proceeded uneventfully. We were told many times over how much the college wanted us to succeed and that they would be happy to help us, advise us, take our checks, etc.

Finally we came down to the important stuff – breaking out into groups by majors and meeting with our advisors and registering for classes.

The first major called was for funeral science. Yes, there is such a thing! And even more surprising, five people are majoring in it.

They continued on through several more, each netting a handful or so of people, until they called nursing. At least a third of the group stood up. Good news for anyone planning to be ill in about four or five years – there should be plenty of folks available to help care for you. And, don’t forget, if the nursing students are incompetent there are five brave funeral science students ready to step in.

Once the nursing crowd filtered out, I looked around to see the group that was left. Probably about 50 folks were still waiting to hear their majors called. I expected most of them to come with me, when they got to the education group, because if there are so many people interested in helping their fellow man by going into nursing, then surely there will be dozens of folks who wish to teach the next generation.

So when the magical announcement for education majors came, I proudly stood up, and turned to see all my fellow eager, devoted future teachers.

A group of silent, calm faces stared back at me. Seated calm silent faces.

“Education majors! Anyone for elementary, secondary, or special education.”

Crickets chirped.

In the end I made my way down the hall with my two fellow education majors. Yes, three of us. Funeral science had more people. That means more people would rather work with dead bodies than teach children.

Should that concern me?

I wondered if perhaps all these nursing and funeral science majors knew something I didn’t? Is teaching really that scary of a profession that work as a mortician is preferable?

I could see the headlines now "People are more scared of teaching than death" "Teaching children a fate worse than Funeral Science" "Funeral Black the New Gray," and so forth.

I will have to give this all a little more thought. On the one hand, teaching is what I've wanted to do most of my life, and the two things I love the most are books and kids. Getting a teaching degree and then a master's in library science seemed a good way to share my love of books and reading with children.

On the other hand, I do look smashing in black. Maybe there is something to that funeral science thing after all.

NEXT WEEK: On College Registration, or "Hey, who in here is liberal?"

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Good news for anyone planning to be ill in about four or five years – there should be plenty of folks available to help care for you. And, don’t forget, if the nursing students are incompetent there are five brave funeral science students ready to step in.

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AJ

Posts: 11265 | Registered: Mar 2002  |  IP: Logged | 

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That means more people would rather work with dead bodies than teach children.

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Posts: 14745 | Registered: Dec 1999  |  IP: Logged | 

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In the end I made my way down the hall with my two fellow education majors. Yes, three of us.

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Sooo... That means you'll surely be in the top three? Cool!

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