I never thought I would be uttering those words in any serious manner at the age of 40mumbledy, but there it is. It is true. I have an Algebra exam on Wednesday and it is also true I need to get a good grade on it if I want to continue my life as a born-again college student.
I've always been told I was smart, just as I've always been told, by pretty much any teacher I've ever had, "He's very intelligent, but he doesn't apply himself." Which is diplomatic parent-teacher-conference-speak for "He wastes more time than all my other students put together but I can't fail him because for some reason he's passing the tests."
Which means nobody should be surprised I ended up dropping out of college the first time. The University of Utah, to be specific. A great school, but I just never got as enthused about my studies as I needed to. Oh I was involved in all the social trappings -- I was in a fraternity, joined in the Greek study sessions at the Medical Cafeteria, spent some of my favorite Saturday afternoons reading in the Student Union, and all that. My swan song, my last semester, I was on an exchange program in Germany. I aced all my classes -- I've always been good at German -- and then never set a foot back in school.
For reasons I may or may not eventually get into here, that was it, for 15 or so years.
Until this year, when I decided enough was enough. Now I count myself among the ranks of the Nontraditional Students on the campus of Santa Monica college. This time, the goal is Computer Science with an emphasis on code writing and software development -- seems life has gotten more practical since the time when a double major of German and Philosophy seemed the perfect springboard to a well paying job somewhere. In academia. Only. And maybe not even if.
Well, I would -- but just because you dream about it in the backroom of the Grasshopper doesn't mean it'll happen.
When I was at the University the first time, I remember there being talk of these "Nontraditional Students,"a group of people who, unfairly or not, all got lumped together for being dropouts, or too old, or with kids, or too old, or with day jobs, or maybe just a bit too advanced in age for college but I kind of just knew them as "those old people in class." The guy with the graying temples, the woman-of-a-certain-age with the mom hair and big plastic glasses. You know, Nontraditional Students. There was always one in every class and I always assumed they had some sort of advantage in the competition for grades.
Wikipedia, which we did not have when I was in school the first time -- I know, it's not considered admissible scholarly research but it's a great jumping off point for stuff like *this* -- says that actually 73% of all undergraduates in 1999–2000 could be considered non-traditional, so I should probably stop feeling like such a fish out of water on the SMC campus.
But I feel like that anyway. Shoe's on the other foot now. I am that guy who is twice the age of his fellow students. The guy with the salt and pepper temples and "I came here straight from my corporate desk job" fashion. Trying to break the ice the first week of class I mentioned not having studied any sort of math for going on 20 years. On the faces of at least half a dozen kids in class, I saw the wheels turning, then them figuring out at the same time I did that the history of my battle with Algebra had been running longer than their entire lives. I don't know which of us was more discomfited with that realization.
Which reminds me, I have to go study. I have an Algebra midterm this week that I absolutely must ace.
