What I Learned in College

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“What am I doing here? I’m an idiot.”

That was one of the more positive thoughts I had as I found a seat in my first class at Saint Martin’s University. I just wanted to die. I was at least fifteen years older than everyone in my Religious Studies class, and they all knew each other so I pretended to be busy reading a blank sheet of notebook paper while they talked.

“Oh my gosh, they’re all geniuses. I’m dropping out, this was a mistake. A huge, mid-life-crisis mistake.”

Those thoughts continued until the professor, Sister Laura, took roll and started her lecture. We sat at rectangular tables which formed a square around the room. Sister Laura paced the floor, discussing historical figures who were killed for their beliefs. She brought up the holy triumvirate of martyrs: Jesus, Gandhi, and Martin Luther King, Jr., describing attributes they all shared. As Sister Laura circled the room, she asked the students, “Who else can we add to this list?”

A young woman raised her hand and answered, “Macklemore?”

She wasn’t asking a question, she was making a statement, but she was an uptalker, like so many of today’s youth, whose last word of every sentence rises in an insecure and hesitant finale.

“Okay... Macklemore. And who is he?” asked Sister Laura.

“He’s a rapper? And he like? Supports sexual preference?” said the uptalker.

A euphoric feeling rushed through my body; that was the moment I knew I was going to get along just fine at college. But at the same time, I felt sick to my stomach because holy crap, this girl was serious.

For two years, I worried and stressed and second-guessed my way through the required courses. I read 60 books, countless short stories, and dozens of essays, I wrote 49 papers totaling 369 pages, and I filled 8 spiral notebooks with notes and research. And I think I have the beginning stages of arthritis in my right hand.

I earned a Bachelor’s degree in English and I have no idea what to do with it, but at least I can cross “Go back to college” off my bucket list. There are actually only two things on that list, the other one is “Appear in an 80's sitcom." But since Diff’rent Strokes was cancelled, I’ll never get to realize my dream of guest starring as Mr. Drummond’s tom-boyishly feisty foster daughter, Tiffany, whose hilarious catch phrases put Arnold’s “Whatchu talkin’ ‘bout, Willis?" to shame. 

Perhaps it’s time to update my bucket list.

If you’re old like me and you're considering going back to college, but are intimidated by the mere thought of it, I’d like to share some things I learned that will serve as priceless nuggets of counsel for your journey.

1) The wisest, most intelligent human beings are those who, when challenged, resist the urge to announce how educated they are, or list the degrees they hold. Any time someone utters the phrase, “I am highly educated, I hold a [insert degree] in [insert field]...” the next words out of his mouth will likely be the stupidest thing you’ve ever heard. And I should know because I’m highly educated, I have a Bachelor's in English. 

2) There are four, and only four, topics that exist in Universities and shame on you if you ever try to discuss another one. Class, Race, Gender, and Religion. That’s it. Nothing else matters, you narrow-minded bigot.

3) If you’re lucky, you’ll encounter professors whose passion and excitement are so infectious that you momentarily consider pursuing a PhD until you realize that you want to spend neither the time nor the money required to earn it, and you actually hate research, not to mention you struggle with a severe lack of motivation. But those professors are fantastic. And few.

4) This is the most important thing I learned, so pay attention. No college degree, no amount of letters after a name, no pretentious academic-speak will ever impress me as much as my blue-collar family. I watch them build, fix, and labor every day and their skills are like nothing I ever saw in college. They read, debate, and grow their minds as they pursue wisdom, but can still build an entire house, or boat, or car. And yes, of course there is value in both fields; one just impresses me a little more.

While finishing college at 38 was one of the most satisfying and rewarding accomplishments of my life, it was also frustrating. I showed up with a lot of life already lived and real world experiences to bring to my studies, and those characteristics aren’t always welcome in a university where a specific doctrine is being instilled. Once, a guest-speaker told my literary theory class that many feminists believe stay-at-home moms perpetuate the oppression of women and cause more harm than good. How'd you like to hear that as a young twenty-something who doesn't have a clue what "oppression of women" even means other than what you learned in school?

There’s an excellent scene in Good Will Hunting where Clark, a braggadocious Harvard student, in an effort to show off, begins to regurgitate other people’s ideas as if they were his own. Will, a janitor, calls him out in a let’s-all-cheer-for-the-underdog scene, and he shares some knowledge with the phony intellectual that's incredibly apt. Will says to Clark, “See, the sad thing about a guy like you is, in 50 years you're gonna start doin' some thinkin' on your own and you're going to come up with the fact that there are two certainties in life: one, don't do that, and two, you dropped 150 grand on a [bleep]’n education you could have got for a dollar fifty in late charges at the public library.”

As great as college was, as enriched as my life has become because of it, I hope I never forget that it’s not the greatest. Nor is it the only way to knowledge, wisdom, or success. Whatever path my kids choose, whether college or a skilled trade, all I ask of them is they work harder then they ever have, and that they find joy in what they do. And maybe figure it out before they're almost 40. 'Cause I still don't have a clue.

How do ya like them apples?