I Read Banned Books

Today’s guest blogger is my husband, Boog.  It took all kinds of convincing, but he relented.  I love him to the sky for loving me in spite of my psycho hose beast and cultish behaviors. Leave him some comment love so that he knows what a great blogger he could be.

————–

“Go to college!” was the mantra repeated when I was a high school student. Get your education or you will not be successful in life. The best jobs all require college degrees. Unfortunately, the path I took out of high school would not include college for many years. In his essay “College Pressures,” Zinnser stresses four pressures that weigh heavily upon the college student - economic, parental, peer, and self-induced. Besides peer pressure, all of these have played their role, influencing me and my decisions with respect to college. Even today, 23 years after graduating from high school, these same pressures bear heavily on my mind. So I now find myself, 40 years old, entering college without any clear goals other than I wish to complete something that I missed all those years ago. I am unsure of my expectations of the college experience, but I hope that as I progress I will have a more clear understanding of what it is I want and expect from the educational experience. While my past financial and parental circumstances affected my current expectations, my own personal desire to be more complete has drawn me to college, but it also has left me with many self induced pressures.

My failure to attend college right out of high-school was in many ways due to economic and parental pressures. Perhaps lack of parental pressures would be more accurate. I knew that my parents would not be contributing to my education fund. I also was never really “pressured” by my parents about the importance of obtaining a college education. And my father worked at a community college of all places. Without the financial or emotional support required for college, I instead chose the military route. That also turned into a failure, as various things kept me from honoring my commitment. Honorably discharged, with no college fund and no means of support, I began working menial jobs, and my life passed as the years slowly moved by. I was lucky to eventually obtain a job in the field of gaming, first as a dealer and now as a supervisor. It has been a lucrative career. However, it is one that has left me unfulfilled, unhappy, and unsure of where and what I want to spend the rest of my life doing. With the blessing of my wife and a determination to succeed, I find myself a bewildered college student, questioning the choice I have made to re-enter college so late in life, so long after high school.

The registration process alone is frustrating for a first time college student. The options that are available are mind-boggling and offer no direction. I register for two summer term classes: English Composition 101, and Psychology 101. Wow, what was I thinking by taking two eight week courses? Here my expectations start to fail. Psychology is an online course. We are assigned to read a couple of chapters then write a short discussion question and a research article. But where is the instructor? I thought I was going to be taught. There is no interaction, guidance, or direction whatsoever from the instructor. This has me frowning at the online experience. English 101, my campus based class, has also made me reevaluate my expectations. Besides needing the course as a basic requirement, I wanted to get back into the habit of writing. I also needed to learn the more modern methods of structure and formatting. I have to read all these essays and write a response to a few questions. I suppose I was expecting a more technical class. It is quite alright as I love to read. Along with my expectations for the class work, I suppose I expected a little more out of my classmates. With a few exceptions, I sit for two and half hours in a class made up of children. There are girls who are constantly talking or texting. Another kid is always playing computer games. Several students are always arriving twenty to thirty minutes late. If I was the instructor, I think I would flip out at some point. Maybe I thought everyone would have a little more dedication; you are paying for this class after all.

Now my self-induced pressures come into play. I tend to be a perfectionist, sure of what I am doing yet weak to criticism. I feel like an imbecile now. It is very apparent in my English class, as that is the only feedback that I am receiving at this time. The response I got from my first rough draft just floored me. I did not understand what the instructor wanted; I could not see what was needed. I was not sure where to look for help. I agonized and fretted over my revision for days. I managed to pull it together and was relieved to turn in my final draft. I was relatively pleased with my work, but upon receiving my grade, doubts began to creep into my thinking. The uncertainty I felt about my work has left me no end of heartburn and confusion. Perhaps I am in over my head. Did the perfectionist in me assume that this was going to be easy? My pessimistic side thinks maybe this was not such a great idea after all.

I now head into my fourth week of school. Halfway there, I tell myself. I only have to come up with a research topic for both classes, investigate it, and write 10 pages of babble that sounds somewhat coherent. I fully expect to be absolutely overwhelmed with the amount of work that I will soon have to complete. Maybe I can talk the doctor into prescribing a sedative. Still, I am resolute in my desire to see this through to the end. I may be old and slow, but I am sure that my efforts will indeed be rewarded. I cannot continue to discourage myself, and I will not let my preconceived notions interfere with my own personal learning journey.