•9:03 PM
The other day, we strode across the University of Windsor campus - Addie C. and I - like we owned the joint.
Okay ... it was 9:15 on a Friday morning and all the regular students were at some summer job earning money toward their education. Or, they were still sleeping. But still ... I was on campus and I was handing in papers. Important papers.
Papers - a portfolio of my writing, to be exact - that will determine whether I will be admitted into Creative Writing I.
I guess, that if I am not signed into the class, I will know that I should pursue another goal in life. Which is good ... because I don't want to spend a couple of years studying, only to be told at the end that perhaps I should move in another direction.
For now, I must wait. But I have registered for my other classes. Do you remember this process of selecting what you will study for the next semester? It's a little scary ... pieces of paper scattered about, each one with very important tidbits of information, laptop glowing with overuse, and a woman mumbling to herself, generally ignoring her family and their needs/wants/whining/fighting.
Back in those old-fashioned days of the late 1980s, we would pick up a newspaper that listed all the courses being offered, and then try to coordinate a schedule that did not include any classes on Friday. In my first year, we actually had to stand in a line and hand a paper to someone (like, a real person ... I kid you not) with the course numbers we wanted to take. S/he would then tell us whether the class was full or available. If it was full, you had to submit an alternative ... which meant that you had to be prepared for any scenario. Or, you had to be prepared to come back later that day and wait in a very long line again ... without a Blackberry to entertain you. I am sure that I do not have to explain the stress this type of situation would create for a person like me.
In my second year, there was new state-of-the-art technology, and we could register by phone - similar to banking by phone. That is how I registered for my classes for the rest of my university career. And, if a class was full, you could end your session, play around with your schedule (ensuring no Friday classes), and then call back.
Now, of course, everything is done over the Internet. Which means you must use a computer. A computer who does not know when someone is special ...
My Mom has always told me that I am special ... I am seeing now that she may have a point. But being special is not always a good thing. In the interest of being politically correct, the correct terminology for agirl woman person like me is not "mature" but a "returning" student ... a student with an Honours Degree who needs to pick up some required (undergrad) courses in order to be allowed admittance into a Masters prorgam. In the University computer, I am coded as a Semester 8 Student ... which my Mom might call "special," or you might call "mature" but that the computer only knows as "returning." Which is NOT a first-year student ... keep this information in mind.
When I first looked into pursuing some education in Creative Writing, I met with a professor. A really nice guy, he told me that to enter into the Masters program, I first need to have an undergrad degree in English ... which is no problem because I have already taken several English courses, and will only need to pick some required courses to qualify for an English degree. However, one of those courses is a first-year course and you must be in your first year to register for it. But I am a Semester 8 student, remember? I am special.
So, my first hurdle was to convince some poor English professor to take pity on me - because I am old and special - and sign me into their already full Writing About Literature course. But I did it, and was ready for the next challenge.
I hope it has not escaped you that in a few short weeks, I will be sitting in a university classroom with a bunch of seventeen- and eighteen-year-olds. I will appear to them to be an old lady ... I could be their mother. Ugh. This sends Jonesy into fits of laughter.
The second hurdle to overcome in the world of "course registration" came when I tried to register for my second course, Contemporary Literary Theory. One must have a minimum of Semester 3 standing (check, because last I inquired 8 is bigger than 3) and have taken one other English course. This is where the problem lies ... the computer does not recognize the courses I took as part of my previous degree ... my old degree is not sharing its information with my new plans in the computer. So, I (once again) had to get special persmission to be signed into the course. Once again, my Mom was right ... I am special.
I actually registered like an average (that is, un-special) student for my third course, Early British Literature. And, as already mentioned, I am awaiting news on my fourth course, Creative Writing I. Now the hard part begins because I have to wait for the summer to be finished. But, who wishes the summer away? Me ... that's who.
So, as we strolled across campus the other day - well, Addie C. ran and I walked at a normal pace for an almost forty-one-year-old woman - I felt excited. Excited for the Fall Semester to begin. Excited for possibilities. Excited for the Back-to-School shopping.
Excited for Frosh Week ... because if I am registered in first-year courses, I can attend all the Frosh Week Activities, right?
Okay ... it was 9:15 on a Friday morning and all the regular students were at some summer job earning money toward their education. Or, they were still sleeping. But still ... I was on campus and I was handing in papers. Important papers.
Papers - a portfolio of my writing, to be exact - that will determine whether I will be admitted into Creative Writing I.
I guess, that if I am not signed into the class, I will know that I should pursue another goal in life. Which is good ... because I don't want to spend a couple of years studying, only to be told at the end that perhaps I should move in another direction.
For now, I must wait. But I have registered for my other classes. Do you remember this process of selecting what you will study for the next semester? It's a little scary ... pieces of paper scattered about, each one with very important tidbits of information, laptop glowing with overuse, and a woman mumbling to herself, generally ignoring her family and their needs/wants/whining/fighting.
Back in those old-fashioned days of the late 1980s, we would pick up a newspaper that listed all the courses being offered, and then try to coordinate a schedule that did not include any classes on Friday. In my first year, we actually had to stand in a line and hand a paper to someone (like, a real person ... I kid you not) with the course numbers we wanted to take. S/he would then tell us whether the class was full or available. If it was full, you had to submit an alternative ... which meant that you had to be prepared for any scenario. Or, you had to be prepared to come back later that day and wait in a very long line again ... without a Blackberry to entertain you. I am sure that I do not have to explain the stress this type of situation would create for a person like me.
In my second year, there was new state-of-the-art technology, and we could register by phone - similar to banking by phone. That is how I registered for my classes for the rest of my university career. And, if a class was full, you could end your session, play around with your schedule (ensuring no Friday classes), and then call back.
Now, of course, everything is done over the Internet. Which means you must use a computer. A computer who does not know when someone is special ...
My Mom has always told me that I am special ... I am seeing now that she may have a point. But being special is not always a good thing. In the interest of being politically correct, the correct terminology for a
When I first looked into pursuing some education in Creative Writing, I met with a professor. A really nice guy, he told me that to enter into the Masters program, I first need to have an undergrad degree in English ... which is no problem because I have already taken several English courses, and will only need to pick some required courses to qualify for an English degree. However, one of those courses is a first-year course and you must be in your first year to register for it. But I am a Semester 8 student, remember? I am special.
So, my first hurdle was to convince some poor English professor to take pity on me - because I am old and special - and sign me into their already full Writing About Literature course. But I did it, and was ready for the next challenge.
I hope it has not escaped you that in a few short weeks, I will be sitting in a university classroom with a bunch of seventeen- and eighteen-year-olds. I will appear to them to be an old lady ... I could be their mother. Ugh. This sends Jonesy into fits of laughter.
The second hurdle to overcome in the world of "course registration" came when I tried to register for my second course, Contemporary Literary Theory. One must have a minimum of Semester 3 standing (check, because last I inquired 8 is bigger than 3) and have taken one other English course. This is where the problem lies ... the computer does not recognize the courses I took as part of my previous degree ... my old degree is not sharing its information with my new plans in the computer. So, I (once again) had to get special persmission to be signed into the course. Once again, my Mom was right ... I am special.
I actually registered like an average (that is, un-special) student for my third course, Early British Literature. And, as already mentioned, I am awaiting news on my fourth course, Creative Writing I. Now the hard part begins because I have to wait for the summer to be finished. But, who wishes the summer away? Me ... that's who.
So, as we strolled across campus the other day - well, Addie C. ran and I walked at a normal pace for an almost forty-one-year-old woman - I felt excited. Excited for the Fall Semester to begin. Excited for possibilities. Excited for the Back-to-School shopping.
Excited for Frosh Week ... because if I am registered in first-year courses, I can attend all the Frosh Week Activities, right?
2 comments:
Never mind what the computer tells you. You are and always will be SPECIAL! Love you!!
Jill, LOL!!! you'll do great, you're "experienced". I agree with your mom, don't wish the summer away, it's always way too short. Especially with kids!