Windmill Down!

June 5, 2008 at 9:33 pm (asking the right questions, college, history, history degree, nontraditional students, retreads)
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I am not a superstitious person, but I believe that there are ways to listen to any message that arrives, by any means.  I read fortune cookie notes, I listen if someone wants to read my horoscope aloud, and I will even glance over the subject lines of the messages in my bulk and junk mail folders before I delete them all.  Life sends reminders and chaos has its purpose in the Cosmic Scheme of Things.  Thus, when a friend offered to do a completely unofficial Tarot Card reading for me, I was game for the experience.  I have had poor luck with such things all my life, but I also steer by other stars; this was for fun.

I asked about my chances for success in my current educational endeavors: currently working on the last two classes needed for my BA in U.S. History.  The cards essentially came back with “Rotsa ruck!” and the clear indication that signs did not point to success.  While not encouraging, and while it wasn’t the message my friend would have chosen to give me, there was still plenty of room for interpretation.  I chose to consider the message of the cards as a challenge to my creativity, and I took a second look at my methods to date.  What was I doing, and what else could I do?

Emails weren’t working as a method of contact with the local university, but I work near the campus, so I tried the direct approach.  A quick visit to their Information Booth equipped me with a map and a few words of directional advice; from there I parked my car in a visitors’ lot and started hiking.  In the course of the afternoon, I visited the History department, the Registrar’s office, and the Admissions office.

The biggest problem I faced was the competition for seats in a class.  Courses at the 400-level are offered to upperclassmen – kids who have been in the school system, chosen their majors, and know what they must do to complete their studies.  The largest classes offered at the 400 level accept only 15 students, and others accept ten or only five students.  As such, long before the Spring semester has ended, students have already raced to lock in their seats for Fall – every one of the classes I asked about had been filled and closed.

However, the kindly Secretary of the History Department explained the rules: the professors have the final say on their classes.  What I needed to do was write to the professor who would be teaching the course I wanted to take, explaining who I am, why I need the course, and asking permission to be a student in that course.  Once I had a note from the professor accepting me, I was in, and it was a simple matter of printing off the emailed acceptance and bringing that, along with my “non-matriculated student” application form, to the Admissions office.  I have both papers in-hand now, and am ready to find out how much I will have to pay for the privilege.

Coming up this Fall:  Women & Social Movements in 20th Century U.S.

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Windmills and Hoops

June 3, 2008 at 7:01 pm (asking the right questions, college, history, history degree, nontraditional students, retreads)
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One of the best writers I have the privilege to call friend — John O. — recently reminded me of the comedian Bob Newhart. Newhart had an album out, years ago, entitled The Windmills Are Weakening. I remember falling in love with that title as soon as I heard the story of Don Quixote, and the gentle hopefulness of Newhart’s assertion has always been a presence in the back of my mind as I stumble through each day.

Last year, another good friend — a Canadian with vast experience in the educational milieu –- told me that pursuit of my Bachelor of Arts degree was very much dependent upon how well I learned to jump through hoops, in the metaphorical sense. I needed to learn how things were done and negotiate the labyrinthine process just as much as I needed to actually learn the course content once I finally got into the classroom.

All of this keeps me sane as I chase down my final two college courses.

Hoop 1: My “Home” College. With regard to requirements, the college where I am matriculated handed down some clear-cut rules: I need to take a course equivalent to their Seminar. They gave me easy terms, though — a weakened windmill moment: any class offered at the local University, at the 400 level, will suffice, although I would be wise to make certain they approve my choice before I hand over any cash. I must also take one more 3-credit course – any course at all – to achieve the correct number of total college credits earned. I’ll take that course from the local Community College.

Hoop 2, parts A and B: The Local University. Thanks to a dear friend who works there, I have – after months of fruitless inquiries – made contact with the Admissions Office and the Secretary of the History Department — two windmills still standing firm

A) Admissions tells me I need to enroll as a ‘non-matric’ so as to create a presence in their computer system (which probably translates as items on the final bill) which will then enable me to sign up for my desired class this Fall.

B) The History secretary told me I needed to send an email to the professor teaching the course I wish to take. I sent him this message:

“I just completed a 300-level course at [Name Withheld] College (Modern Latin American History) but all the rest of my History courses were taken at [Distant College] in 1981 or earlier. I still believe I can complete your course this fall, having been alive during the intervening years and thus inescapably exposed to the content we would study.”

I will be on the University Campus tomorrow afternoon and should have at least one of these matters resolved by the end of the day.

Hoop 3: The Local Community College. The last course will probably be another online class. I took my Biology class this way last year, and it went pretty well – there were clearly-defined expectations that were easily met, so long as I kept myself organized, and it’s not only far less money per credit hour, there is no gas money spent getting to class.

I’m within reach of the goal, and I’m keeping a positive attitude toward the whole venture. The worst I can do is spend my entire economic stimulus check and still need to take another course. There are worse fates, by far.

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