New York and New Jersey accents, shy, stuttering Californians, and the cautious English of South Americans.
Girls with long, flat ironed hair and push up bras. They shake their heads and sigh in horror as a mother asks another embarrassing question.
Timid boys with glazed over eyes staring at the ground as their fathers bark about how the school (and frats) “used to be” back in 1976.
Yesterday, hordes of people flooded into the admissions office. I sat at the front desk as over 200 parents and students came in for two tours and information sessions. I fielded questions.
High school students were eager to speak to a college freshman. They asked about everything from pets to drinking policies.
Parents dwelled on costs, classes, and asked about safety and promiscuity on campus. I’m not sure if they are more afraid of consensual sex or rape.
I spoke at length about campus activities, and the financial aid procedures for in-state students “There’s the access grant and this is how you apply for it, oh and then bright futures, and our scholarships and Stafford loans and…” and about dorm life, “Well, you aren’t officially allowed to …”
I will start wading through Charlotte Brontë’s “Jane Eyre” sometime tonight. I hope to finish at least four of the seven novels that are required for next semester’s English class. I still can’t find my copy of Dicken’s “Great Expectations.” I know I own it because I distinctly remember reading the first chapter and becoming incredibly bored with it….
I’m sitting in the admission’s office again.
The crowd for the first tour slowly grows. More New York and New Jersey accents, cautious South Americans, and what looks like half of a junior high school’s female soccer team from St. Louis. The soccer players ask themselves what county they live in. I don’t think any of them quite know. “Do we live in St. Louis county?”
The resemblance between students, their siblings, and their parents – the same long lose, or big eyes, or nice smile is really interesting…