Recently, the Teenager and I made a college visit. She's starting to narrow down the choices, and I think we have a front-runner, but we still have a few more visits to make to be sure. This visit was out of state and it involved air travel, so it was more than a college visit; it was an adventure. We were going to a place with really cold weather, and I was having pre-visit nightmares of driving on icy roads covered in snow and crashing the rental car on some road hazard like a fence post or another car, and then having to explain to the rental car company that I wrecked their car because driving on ice just isn't a personal strength.
Anyway, that part of it went perfectly. The rental car was returned without a scratch on it.
As part of this visit we got to tour the different departments of the school's College of Engineering, and hear about all the wonderful things that happen there, and all the fantastic resources the university offers to maximize student success. Students have lots of study abroad opportunities, and they can gain real world experience through paid internships. I sat and listened to all of this, and my brain kept going back to three thoughts:
1. When do we get to the part about how much money you want me to give you? Because no one is really talking about that here.
2. I don't remember all this supportive stuff when I was a college student back in the ancient days of scan-trons, typewriters and poufy hair coated with Aqua-net. Back then it was essentially "Here it is, boys and girls, the source of knowledge. It's all on you now, so good luck and try not to flunk out, and enjoy that King Ranch Casserole in the cafeteria, because you'll be eating it every Wednesday!".
3. How is it possible that I have a daughter about to go to college, especially since I just gave birth to her yesterday? What happened here?
I was transported back to my own college days, especially when we decided to check out a cookie place near the campus called "Insomnia Cookies". It is the perfect name for a business near a college campus, because one aspect I do remember about my own college experience is that I stayed up all night quite a bit, especially during finals, hoping (in some cases, in vain) that the knowledge that had failed to percolate through to my brain all semester would all of a sudden bind itself to the gray matter inside my skull. This cookie place, we were told, would deliver cookies until 3 AM.
Of course we had to check it out; the cookies were delicious. We made a repeat visit before we left.
This business of applying to and then selecting a university seems a lot more involved than it did back in the 1980's, or maybe it was and I have just forgotten. I picked my undergraduate alma mater based on three factors: (1) the campus was really pretty; (2) It was affordable; and (3) they were willing to offer me admission. Now both prospective student and parent get bombarded with e-mail about college days and visits and orientations and this deadline and that deadline and I start feeling like it's time to retreat to a cave to perform simple tasks, like filing my 2017 income tax returns.
I do remember being bombarded with postcards and brochures, just like the Teenager is. But they definitely were not as fancy as they are now. I didn't have to set up e-mail accounts for every university I applied to (that was back when people actually mailed you things, young whippersnappers!). The residence halls still have that distinctive eau de dorm odor, but now you don't need quarters to operate the washers and dryers; you use your student account card. I don't recall study abroad opportunities; if they did exist it was a well-kept secret (at least from me). Now, it seems like it's almost a requirement.
Anyway, we left feeling like the time had been productively spent; we got a better feel for the campus and the surrounding area and I think the teenager got some valuable insights into her choice of major. We also saw snow, which was a big deal to us, but not a big deal to anyone else on the campus because apparently they see snow a lot and by February they're rather tired of dealing with it.
And we had cookies. Delicious, warm, chocolatey cookies. Not, however, at 3 AM. I need my sleep.
No comments:
Post a Comment