The Last Decade
I wasn't accepted...
at least the first two times that I applied.
Second time is a coincidence; third time is a charm.
Despite my lackluster high school transcript, or my floundering college sophomore GPA, Rutgers University finally accepted my transfer application. Maybe I was accepted for my groundless persistence. Maybe RU felt a pang of conscience at taking hundreds of dollars in application fees. I'd like to believe they just wanted to cut some Jersey kid a break.
Who could have guessed...
Sounds cliche', right? Little fish in a big pond... Given the chance to sink or swim...
Well. You might predict that acceptance to the University was THE turning point in my academic career. Nope. I had dreamed of attended Rutgers for such a long time, I didn't know what to do with myself once I got there.
Typical college kid crisis: too much freedom, not enough vision. The benefit of youth is that you still have time to recover from your mistakes. Junior year was a little late to make mistakes of this magnitude. I had a two-week "On the Road" adventure that would render that semester's GPA a whopping 1.8. Low enough for Rutgers to drop me. you could say that I hit rock bottom... and started digging.
THAT was the turning point. It was academic resuscitation- I had to bring my college career back to life. in the end, my undergraduate degree cost an extra semester, but I finall graduated with a major in psychology and minor in English. Given another semester I could have walked away with an English major and women studies minor. But hey, like that would have prepared me any more for the working world.
Oh, the working world. A year of the cubicle Dilbert life was enough for me to run back to that womb of a university. This time for my teaching certificate. In between temp jobs I gave substitute teaching a whirl. Who would have ever guessed I would have found my voccational calling? Who could have ever suspected that a focus in child development / cognitive science mixxed with an English almost-major would be the perfect preparation for a caree in teaching. Certainly not my parents...
Heh. What was it Mark Twain said?
Well. I guess all that was the lead into this breaking news: today was the final class session towards my Masters coursework. I'm walking away from a decade of Rutgers University.
Ten years (on and off again)...
One university...
Two campuses...
Three seperate schools...
Four degrees: psychology, English, N.A.S.D.T.E.C. elementary certification, and a masters of literacy education...
172.5 undergraduate credits...
30 graduate credits...
10's of thousands of dollars...
...and I already have the itch to pursue my educational doctorate. For now, I'll choose to live the life that I built, three credits at a time.
This is my American dream- I followed my path to it's end and made something of myself. Brought myself back from a dead-end college into a major university. Atoned for one semester's devastating GPA. Worked myself into graduate school. They say that the shortest distance between two points is a strait distance. Too bad I missed my turn. Yeah, I could have streamlined my coursework, saving myself years and thousands of dollars. Education is a journey, and not a destination. It's bumper sticker-wisdom. "All who wander are not lost."
All who wonder are not lost.
...and, in the end, I found mine.
at least the first two times that I applied.
Second time is a coincidence; third time is a charm.
Despite my lackluster high school transcript, or my floundering college sophomore GPA, Rutgers University finally accepted my transfer application. Maybe I was accepted for my groundless persistence. Maybe RU felt a pang of conscience at taking hundreds of dollars in application fees. I'd like to believe they just wanted to cut some Jersey kid a break.
Who could have guessed...
Sounds cliche', right? Little fish in a big pond... Given the chance to sink or swim...
Well. You might predict that acceptance to the University was THE turning point in my academic career. Nope. I had dreamed of attended Rutgers for such a long time, I didn't know what to do with myself once I got there.
Typical college kid crisis: too much freedom, not enough vision. The benefit of youth is that you still have time to recover from your mistakes. Junior year was a little late to make mistakes of this magnitude. I had a two-week "On the Road" adventure that would render that semester's GPA a whopping 1.8. Low enough for Rutgers to drop me. you could say that I hit rock bottom... and started digging.
THAT was the turning point. It was academic resuscitation- I had to bring my college career back to life. in the end, my undergraduate degree cost an extra semester, but I finall graduated with a major in psychology and minor in English. Given another semester I could have walked away with an English major and women studies minor. But hey, like that would have prepared me any more for the working world.
Oh, the working world. A year of the cubicle Dilbert life was enough for me to run back to that womb of a university. This time for my teaching certificate. In between temp jobs I gave substitute teaching a whirl. Who would have ever guessed I would have found my voccational calling? Who could have ever suspected that a focus in child development / cognitive science mixxed with an English almost-major would be the perfect preparation for a caree in teaching. Certainly not my parents...
Heh. What was it Mark Twain said?
Well. I guess all that was the lead into this breaking news: today was the final class session towards my Masters coursework. I'm walking away from a decade of Rutgers University.
Ten years (on and off again)...
One university...
Two campuses...
Three seperate schools...
Four degrees: psychology, English, N.A.S.D.T.E.C. elementary certification, and a masters of literacy education...
172.5 undergraduate credits...
30 graduate credits...
10's of thousands of dollars...
...and I already have the itch to pursue my educational doctorate. For now, I'll choose to live the life that I built, three credits at a time.
This is my American dream- I followed my path to it's end and made something of myself. Brought myself back from a dead-end college into a major university. Atoned for one semester's devastating GPA. Worked myself into graduate school. They say that the shortest distance between two points is a strait distance. Too bad I missed my turn. Yeah, I could have streamlined my coursework, saving myself years and thousands of dollars. Education is a journey, and not a destination. It's bumper sticker-wisdom. "All who wander are not lost."
All who wonder are not lost.
...and, in the end, I found mine.
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