it's the first day of school, and I feel fine

Yesterday I was reminded of the weekend before classes started last year when I laboriously psyched myself up for the first day of a new school year. It really was a weekend-long project. I just kept telling myself, a new year, a fresh start, brand new excited students at college for the first time. And you know, it worked. I went to work on that first Monday of classes feeling optimistic and with a smile on my face. Only to be told when I got there that I would not be doing the same job I did every other day of the year, but that I would be stuck working probation and dismissal.

Probation and dismissal comes at the end of every semester, of course, and only one person in my office knew how to run the whole process from start to finish. For who knew what reason, last year she decided that I was going to do it from then on instead of her. She lobbied with our supervisor, who agreed. So, instead of greeting excited new students and answering their questions, I was stuck doing a project I knew nothing about and had no interest in learning. Can you guess who got to be the first friendly face who answered all the questions? Oh yeah. The person who dumped her task on me.

I made it clear to her that I was not happy with the situation, and, in fact, told her that there was no point in my learning the process because I would be gone before it had to be done again. Well, it took me longer than one semester to accomplish that, but I am by god not doing it this year, am I? I am also not crying in the restroom like last year wondering how the first day of classes had turned into the worst day of classes for me. And that is a definite improvement.

reading assignment

This ran as an op-ed in today's Cleveland Plain Dealer. It should be required reading for the parents of every college student in the country. No on is ever going to say this to the parents of the students at my former place of employment. And I will tell you why. Because parents represent what is the bottom line to colleges today: the almighty dollar. Parents threaten to take their money and leave, and rather than explain that a college degree is earned, not purchased, administrators cave to their demands.

Kudos to Tom Chema for saying what every administrator, instructor and staff member at every university and college knows to be the truth.


Tripped up

Dependence on parents leaves college students unprepared

Cleveland Plain Dealer
Friday, August 24, 2007
Thomas V. Chema

The overloaded SUVs, pickup trucks and minivans are pulling up in front of our dorms at Hiram College. In my four years as president, I've seen more than a few U-Hauls filled to the brim with big-screen TVs, rolled-up rugs and giant futons. One survey estimates the average freshman spends $1,200 on necessities for his or her dorm room.

All that new "stuff" our students bring to college doesn't bother me. It's the fact that so many of our academically well-prepared students aren't ready to cut the cord to mom and dad.

And really, why should they?

Having their parents run interference has worked well for this generation. Many of today's kids are very comfortable with having dad call the coach to complain about playing time. Mom chats online with teachers and uses Web-based grade books to keep daily tabs on academics. Because they are continually tracking and monitoring their children's whereabouts via cell phones, parents quickly solve any problems or scheduling glitches. Coming to the rescue is part of their job.

But what happens once the college search is over and the new extra-long sheets are on the dorm bed? As part of our three-day New Student Institute at Hiram, we intentionally scheduled family farewells for 3 p.m. today, Day One. In other words: Time for the folks to say goodbye and go home.

Unfortunately, that's when our student life staff starts fielding calls. Even before the New Student Institute is over, parents are on the line asking what the college is going to do about their 18-year-old's roommate problems. Statistics show that 90 percent of first-year students arrive on campus having never shared a bedroom. These kids don't know how to live in close quarters with someone else, let alone deal with conflicts over TV channels, music choices or when to shut off the lights.

But they do know that a cell phone call to mom will take care of it. And -- even more alarming to me -- when these students get their first critical comment from a professor or a grade lower than a B, their solution is to call home and have dad fix it.

I feel sorry for the students and sorrier for their parents. Families are making a huge investment in a college education for their offspring but not using that experience to prepare their child for the real world.

So what should our first-year students bring with them to college? Here's my wish list:

A commitment to confront their own problems.
Responsibility for the choices or decisions they make.
An open mind and willingness to negotiate with others.

The stuff these young adults really need -- responsibility and resiliency -- is not for sale at Target or Bed, Bath & Beyond. For 18- to 22-year-olds, college is a time to begin to grow up. For parents, it's time to let them have that chance.

Chema is president of Hiram College.

it's always a trade-off

I got an email the other day from one of my favorite students, and for the first time since I gave my notice six weeks ago, I feel sad about leaving my job. Are you surprised to know that I have favorite students? Of course I do. We all did. You just can't help it when you work with students on a daily basis. Some of them wait until they are hopelessly bogged down and tearfully demand a quick solution to an insoluble problem. Some of them are incredibly needy, with needs that can never be met. But some of them, well, they just steal your heart.

I hadn't heard from this student in over a year. He has been in and out of school a couple times, and each time he is ready to come back, he gives me a call or sends me an email, to sort of "test the water," I think. I am always delighted to hear from him, and I try to let him know that. He makes an appointment, and I assure him I can't wait to see him. When I emailed him back this time, I encouraged him to make an appointment, as always, but had to tell him I won't be there. I will be very sorry not to see him.

It is important for me to remind myself, however, that what had once been the most important part of my job, (and the part I felt I was best at), that is, being the initial contact for every student who came to our office, had been taken away from me. Instead of being the first face every student saw, I was an incidental person who only saw students when the receptionist was overwhelmed or had a question she couldn't answer. After I lost contact with the students, there just didn't seem to be a real good reason for working at a university.

Classes start in ten days, and for the first time in five years, I won't be there. On the plus side, that means I won't have to answer the same question from hundreds of incoming freshmen (and their truly horrible parents), but at the same time, I won't be there to greet my returning favorites or meet new ones. That makes me a little sad. And I know it was my decision and it is my loss, but I think it might be the university's loss just a little bit, too.

So while I wish the incoming class of 2011 (!) good luck, I most especially wish a good year to the students who will be returning and who might actually miss seeing my face at the counter. I'll be thinking about you.