I teach some combination of undergraduate teacher education courses and graduate education courses. Most of my students are college juniors, so they’ve had a couple years of experience before they get to me.
Starting next week, I’m teaching a course that our university calls SFA (acronym for Stephen F. Austin State University) 101. It’s a one hour course that students take voluntarily (although the university enthusiastically encourages them to take it) that aims to smooth the potentially rough transition between high school and college. The list of topics we’re supposed to cover includes:
- Academic Integrity
- Accessing and Evaluating Information
- Campus and Community Service Opportunities
- College Classroom Learning Strategies
- Overview of University Resources
- Personal Survival Skills (Time MGT, Money MGT, Alcohol, Drugs and Sex)
- The True Value of a College Education
- University Rules and Procedures
- Working Successfully with Peers, Faculty and Staff
I had no idea what to expect last fall when I taught it for the first time, but I was unprepared for the difference between my brand new SFA 101 freshmen and the juniors I usually teach. In that regard, it was gratifying to see how much good a year or two of college does for them in terms of responsibility, maturity, organization and work ethic. It was also good for me because it provided me with endless fodder for dinnertime “what would you do if . . .?” conversations with my kids (ages 9, 12, and 15).
Some things about the students were worrisome. I found myself feeling like one of those old people you see in the movies who snaps in her dentures and grumbles, shaking her head, “Kids today . . .” They were brutally honest about everything, which I initially invited-and then found myself cringing when they shared everything (and I mean everything). They were very open and informal about everything from cheating to sex with their boy/girlfriend to partying. No holds barred.
But I loved the class. I felt like they needed the content of the class and, in some cases, they needed me. On the second day of class, one student approached me after class and asked about what student counseling services were available on campus. They visited me for one-on-one appointments throughout the semester. Several of the guys sat in my office and acted proud and macho-until I asked whether they were homesick-at which point more than one cried unashamedly. They needed help navigating troublesome roommates who came into the room at all hours of the night-disrupting their sleep-and dealing with life-threatening health problems that had gone untreated because they lacked health insurance. In short, they were dealing with some heavy duty life stuff in addition to the usual college “stress” like cramming for tests, re-writing papers, etc.
Mostly, I asked myself all semester long: What would I want for Kennedy (or my other kids, but Kennedy’s first in line) to know about succeeding in college? What advice would I give her or wish that someone else would give her? And hoping that when she does go away to college, there’s a mom-type like me at her university who will look out for her if she needs it.
So I’m putting together my new syllabus and I thought I’d put it out there for my D & S muses:
What do college freshmen need to hear loud and clear?
What do you wish you’d known when you were first starting out?
What do you wish you’d done (or not done)?
*****
Of course, all this assumes that my students will be listening. I know that.
Best college advice I ever got was to pick one professor every semester and make sure they really know who you are. Go to office hours at least four times (even if you don’t have any problems with the course material), ask them about their research, email them two or three times with an insight the class gave you, tell them about your ideas. At the end of your college career, you’ll have eight professors who will be thrilled to write detailed, glowing recommendations for whatever you need (plus, you won’t be able to help doing really well in those classes).
Great advice. Love it!
They need to know about university counseling services: where they are, how to get in touch with them, and what is available. I spent a lot of my freshman year feeling like a social failure because while I could handle the coursework, I couldn’t handle my entitled roommate (or her skeevy boyfriend), or the fact that everyone on my hall liked everyone else except me, or the fact that I had no idea how to make friends with people and so never interacted with anyone outside of classes or rehearsals.
Also: you need to know how to pull an all-nighter. Don’t lie to yourself: it’s going to happen at some point, and it doesn’t have to be destructive.
I second Markie’s comment about getting to know your professors. They are one of your greatest resources, especially for postgrad opportunities. It was because I had good relationships with my teachers that I had the help I needed to get a Fulbright: recommendations, application reviews, general moral support.
Finally: say yes to things. Even if you have no idea what you’re doing. It was how I ended up Assistant Stage Manager for a play my second day on campus, it got me a great job during the school year, and made me grow in ways I never thought possible.
Safe sex, for reals. Having babies will tank your grades hard.
I wish that someone had managed to convince young, idealistically academic me about the necessity of eventually finding gainful employment. I wanted a purely academic degree, and I sneered at all the engineering and business majors in their “diploma mill.” And then graduation came, and for all my lovely grades and fancy GRE score, I didn’t have an internship or any work experience under my belt. Reality can be harsh sometimes! I ended up getting a teaching certificate, teaching for a few years. I knew from day one it wasn’t when I really wanted to do forever, but it was something practical, that made me readily employable, at something I was good at and liked okay. That’s provided a nice sense of security for me. When I went to graduate school a few years later, I was smart about getting experience in hands-on projects. I could have finished my master’s a year earlier if I hadn’t spent time doing a research project, but that project and the skills I gained were very helpful when it came time to look for a job.
Oh, and from someone young-ish (mid 30’s), here’s a trend I’m seeing at the government agency I work at: most of my coworkers (scientists and engineers) who are about 45 or older have bachelors degrees. Almost everyone who’s been hired in the last five years that I’ve been here has a master’s degree (or higher). Probably safe on planning on getting a master’s degree to be competitive in the future.