Real Help

This blog gets a little repetitive for some people. I spend a lot of time being awfully rah-rah-rah, in my efforts to support non-traditional students who are considering going back to school. The fact is, though, that I needed (and sometimes still need) a lot of support, and I don't want anyone to miss out on learning just because no one is standing right there at the registrar's office yelling, "Sign up! Do it now!"

I realize, though, that some non-trads will never consider going back to school because they think they may have a learning disability, vision problems, attention deficits, or really bad writing habits. That's a shame, because the modern university, as well as most community colleges, offers support for people who have a steeper hill to climb than many of us.

At St. Martin's University, we have the Learning and Writing Center; the equivalent facility is right in the center of things on the University of Washington campus. Besides the usual tutoring in math, philosophy, the sciences, and Japanese, French, German, and English, these centers also offer supportive services for all kinds of learning problems. They also offer peer readers, to help students turn out writing assignments, but for now, let's talk about the support.

Suppose you have dyslexia, and it's pretty severe. Depending on your needs and preferences, at a learning center you can complete testing to make sure that's the issue, rather than an eye problem; get help with taking class notes; learn how to work with your professors to arrange for more time to take tests or turn in papers; train to use software that translates your spoken words into computerized text; learn how to adapt Word and other software to your needs; and work with tutors and peer readers to manage your workload.

From working with a few students last semester, I know that learning disabilities do not mean that a person is stupid -- far from it. A particular student mathematician comes to mind: he's a brilliant logician and understands the whole of the mathematics syllabus without a single problem. However, he cannot spell or write down a coherent sentence on his own. The challenges of academic English leave him anxious and frustrated. I can't say that working with the student peer readers and tutors in the Learning Center has solved all his problems, but the Center has helped, and he'll be back in school this fall, instead of quitting his studies way short of his potential to do good things for the world.

In talking about non-trads with the staff at the Learning Center, I found out that many older students just don't use the services very much, even though the cost of them is included in the tuition. If using a tool from the Learning Center, whether it's time management or a sophisticated software system, is the difference between an A and dropping out again, isn't it wiser to reach out for that tool?

While you're on campus, looking over the layout of the buildings or signing up for this fall's classes, stop by your school's Learning Center. It could unlock a lot of mysteries for you when school starts.

Only at St. Martin's

After this posting, the SMU students majoring in engineering may never speak to me again. On the other hand, most of them don't anyway, since they spend all their time in a small building in the far corner of campus, plotting their takeover of the world, for all we know. As hard as they work at their studies, they'd probably run the world very well.

On the other hand, since most of them are taking 20 or more credits this semester, reading blogs is probably not high on their agendas.

Yesterday I was sitting alone at lunch. Mentor A had left to go shopping, leaving me to read as much as I could of the current American history assignment. I wasn't paying too much attention to anything outside the book until voices were raised at the nearby table full of future engineers. When I finally focused on what was going on, I realized they were shouting, laughing, and arguing about stories from the Old Testament. They were enjoying the discussion, too.

That tendency to discuss everything, spiritual and material, no matter what the students' major, isn't the only unusual thing about St. Martin's. While we admittedly have some people on campus -- both students and staff -- who focus mostly on their social lives, most of the students are interested in being good at what they're studying. To me this is a huge contrast to the public colleges and universities I've attended or worked for.

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In case you're wondering just what I'm up to between meals in the university's cafeteria, here's the current list:

I'm reading a lot of Shakespeare's Henriad and trying to synthesize the information into a senior thesis while polishing the paper that needs to go to the Death Panel before I present it at a conference in Oregon in November as I simultaneously study for the first mid-term exam in American history while I start reading Hegel and reviewing Book II of Plato's Republic before I create a PowerPoint presentation based on the ethics and imagery of "Jersey Shore" as I read and journal about two important Victorian essays. How is your weekend going?

I can't believe I'm finally here

It finally happened last night, as I was driving home from another food service shift. It was that moment of bliss, when I realized that after all the planning, the relocating from my hometown, the uprooting of relationships, the expense, the homework, the tuition, the endless second-guessing of my means and motives, here I was:

• I was driving home to a lovely, quiet place almost built for an older scholar. Well, someone who wants to be a scholar.
• I had just spent 12 hours on the campus where I had wanted to be for about three years, attending classes, studying and learning.
• I had just punched out of a job that, while I still wonder if I can handle the physical challenges, makes me happy on the level of providing service to others.
• Despite the complete and total loss of my social life, for the most part I'm living the way I want to live.

What made this come to mind was the encounter I had yesterday with the very first person I've met on the SMU campus who obviously didn't want to be there. Sparing the details and identifying information, it was pretty obvious to me and the others around him that he'd rather be somewhere else doing something more important. He is morose, mopy and uninterested, a depressed and depressing contrast to everyone else I've met on campus. Commuter students come in from an hour or more away each day, and campus residents seem to be pretty happy to be around for the most part. The school must be doing something for them that doesn't reach this guy.

That last paragraph sounds remarkably chirpy, but SMU is different from the places I've worked in the real world. From CBS to Seattle-radio-stations-otherwise-unnamed, and from the UW to private non-profits, the norm has been that every organization has a good percentage of employees or beneficiaries who are looking for a better job, higher status or more money elsewhere. At least twice I've been among the group looking at the want ads on a daily basis as I worked as hard as I could during the day. That's why the atmosphere at SMU amazes me -- and why this sad little kid has me concerned for him.

As far as classes are concerned, I've noticed that every time I think I'm caught up, more reading needs to be done immediately. Of course, math and accounting majors keep finding more problems and philosophy majors find more syllogisms, so I hope I can get used to the workload by the end of the semester.

Meanwhile, this morning the sun is coming up and the crows are calling me out to see what's happening on the water. May you find your bliss moment today and tomorrow and ever after.

Oriented

The Class of 2013 has been convened and taught its first few lessons of college life. Parents have been oriented, fed barbecue and sent home, and depicted in skits as wanting to hover a little too much. The students who live on campus are settling in. As a commuter student, I could have elected to spend orientation weekend on the St. Martin's University campus, but I suspect the settling-in process probably is entailing some late hours.

The orientation guides, all upper classmen, are giving the new students a good taste of college life and making sure they have the contacts they need to be successful. This four day process is in huge contrast to my freshman year centuries ago at Big State U: my parents dropped me off at the dorm, we had a convocation for the several hundred freshmen and were given a handbook with a bunch of rules that no one ever read. Before you ask, yes, boomers could read in those days -- we often chose not to, though. We were having too much fun at the back of the crowd.

I think my father's contemporaries might have gotten restless if Big State had put on a farewell barbecue after a day-long parent orientation like St. Martins did. Boomer parents, though, really like these things. People love to watch Mad Men on TV, but it may not have been such a thrill to have those guys as parents.

Yesterday the students went out to clear a walking trail in Lacey, the city surrounding the campus, as part of the Saints in Service program. I stayed on campus and lined up some ongoing volunteer work for myself and did some studying: The Crucible is as challenging as I remember it.

Last night, as the orientation guides put on a skit about making choices regarding drugs, drinking, sex, study habits and getting along with roommates, I kept myself from giggling at first by trying to put myself in the younger students' shoes. During our group discussions, they keep mentioning how excited they are to be independent, on their own, meeting new people. They look a little nervous, too. Some of them are thousands of miles from home, and all of them are taking steps that will mark their entire lives. That gives me the shivers.

Dis-orientation

The first day of school is just around the corner, preceded by four days of orientation. As a transfer student (who last had a serious academic program in 1975), I will join the other new students at St. Martin's this evening for a barbecue with their parents. Then, according to the schedule, the parents leave at 6:00 and the orientation activities begin.

While some of the younger students will be anxious for their parents to take off so their new lives can begin, I envy them the support of their families. Right now, I feel like I am so totally alone in this project that I'm having some real crises of confidence. Everyone has been really supportive, but the anxieties are so overwhelming that I'd almost rather be having dental surgery. At least in that situation, I know what I'm supposed to do!

The truism that kept me going in China and Taiwan was, "Feel the fear and do it anyway." It may be a stupid piece of advice, but that's what I have to do.

On the bright side, I have a job on campus with the food service contractor, Bon Apetit. It will pay just enough to cover my gasoline bill and comes with a meal each shift. Training starts Monday, along with classes. Also, I've bought most of my books for this semester, and came in about $200 under what I had estimated. I'll make up the difference next semester.

Try, Try Again

So, you're out in the driveway, washing the car, and you drop the sponge or rag or whatever on the ground. Most of us pick it back up, rinse off the gravel and go back to work. What if, however, you got frustrated and just left the sponge on the ground and used another one? How many times would you do this before you just gave up and went inside to check what's up on Hulu?

The suburban driveways of Western Washington are not filled with layers of dirty car wash rags and half-washed cars, so I assume that most people aren't that easily frustrated with routine chores. College for me has been the half-washed car. Logic and Algebra, including the irredeemable remedial classes, have been the car wash rags of my life: I get to the difficult parts, anywhere from a week to a month after the start of the new school year and I drop them. I pass the other classes, but since I can't get around the math requirement, I go on to things that are less demanding, like writing news releases, meeting the every-five-minute deadlines of radio news or maintaining sobriety.

It's about time I got the figurative car washed and put in whatever it takes to pass Intermediate Algebra. An authority figure at St. Martin's tells me this is the last time I'll have to take any form of algebra, if I can just pass it this semester. Oh, let's sincerely hope so.