I had been wanting to get my college degree for some time now, but there always seemed to be something more important or demanding of my time and energy. 22 months ago, I finally embarked on the path to a lifelong dream: A college degree. Now, at 48 years of age, I completed my Associate program and plunged right into my bachelor program. My goal is a bachelor's degree by the time I reach my 50th birthday. So far, I’m on track.
June 2008 - Posts
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As I was pouring over my textbook looking for content for the assignment due today (yyyeessssss…..I am only just now getting started on it….yyyyeeesssssss…I know, I know…procrastinating again….ok, can we move on?), it occurred to me that not only am I looking forward to finishing up my Associate Degree for the obvious reasons, I am also SO looking forward to the fact that my Bachelor Degree program is only one class at a time. Some might see the down side of that prospect: I mean, if there is only one class at a time then classes in the Bachelor Program are likely going to be significantly more difficult than classes in the Associate Program otherwise why would they not allow students to take two at a time? In some ways, taking two classes at a time is a good thing because it speeds up the process and gets the student to their goal faster. The university gets paid per credit, so whether the student takes one or two classes at a time should not matter to the school (I would think).
For the remaining three weeks of my Associate program, I am still taking two classes at a time; this final block (Block X [ß that’s a roman numeral ten, not the variable x, for those who think my algebra class has fried my brain {and that’s not so far-fetched}]) is The Science of Nutrition and Algebra 1B. As I have mentioned in numerous previous blogs posts, Algebra 1B is by no means an easy class for someone who actually LIKES the subject, so for me it is at best an uphill struggle. The nutrition class is really easy. The problem is that although it is an easy class, the assignments are time-consuming. Time that I do not really have (again, besides the obvious—working full time, etc.), because Algebra is kicking my derrière.
The assignment due today in the nutrition class is a PowerPoint presentation on the nutritional needs of the human body at various stages of life and a compare/contrast the different nutritional needs of the female body versus the male body. All of the information I need is in the textbook and pulling together 6 slides should not take me more than a couple of hours. Yet, I find myself anxiously reviewing my algebra exercises and study plan even though nothing is due today in that class. I keep signing into my algebra class to see what my instructor or classmates might have posted that would give me another opportunity to try to grasp the concept of quadratic expressions and maybe even post an example for the class to solve (after all, one cannot post an example if one does not ‘get’ it in the first place). When my nutrition class is in the discussion week, I am hard-pressed to get an adequate number of posts in for participation. I ended up missing 1.5 points one week because I fell short by only one post (the requirement is a minimum of 2 posts on three different days…I had 2 posts on two different days and 1 post on a third day, darn it).
This is why I am looking forward to taking only one class at a time in my Bachelor program. All I have to do is focus on the one thing. If it is an easy class, more the better. But if it is a difficult class for me, I will have a greater chance of being successful if I do not have to worry about a tandem class.
By the way: Instead of actually working on my Nutrition assignment which is due in less than 10 hours, I am writing this blog post—there’s time management for you...
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Is it merely the embarrassment of admitting a lack of knowledge or a lack of the ability to grasp a simple elementary concept that makes us either push forward blindly or give up altogether that prevents us from accepting help from others? Or is it the stubbornly dogmatic mindset that insists we are better off doing things on our own than coughing up a little patience to learn a different (perhaps even better) way of doing something?
I typically am not one to ask for help. It is not because I think I know everything or how to do anything that needs to be done; it is just that I usually find it easier and less stressful to do it on my own. Asking for help means relying on someone else; it means being at the mercy of their generosity, and on their schedule. After all, one certainly cannot ask someone to help and then demand they help in a certain way at a certain time, can one?
From the first conversation I had with my academic counselor nearly two years ago about the prospect of having to take not one but two Algebra classes, I have been advised to check out the math support options offered by Axia College and the University of Phoenix. There is even a local campus within walking distance of my house. Yet I managed to make it through my first Algebra class without help and still passed with flying colors.
Algebra 1B, however (as I have already mentioned in earlier posts) has emphasized to me that there is no shame in asking for help. Week 4 was a nightmare. Even with the hard work and all of the studying, I crashed and burned on the quiz. Even with the little help I got (granted, it was not formal help but I was sure it was adequate—apparently I was mistaken), my grade more than fell short of acceptable. Week 5 was an easier time because there was no quiz (it seems that I do quite well on everything BUT the darned quizzes). Week 6 not only had a quiz but a checkpoint as well.
With the help of a fellow algebra student and her neighbor, who happens to be a retired math teacher and is offering tutoring support to both of us (he apparently taught college math to math instructors), I aced the quiz in Week 6. My instructor is a little delinquent in posting weekly grades and I just learned that although I failed week 4’s quiz miserably, I did well on the rest of the work. So I am very confident in my work done for Week 6…especially since I got 100% on the quiz—I just need to know how I did on the checkpoint. According to the tutor, I did well on that too.
If it were not for the help of my fellow student and her tutor, I am convinced that passing Algebra 1B would not be possible for me. Week 7 started today and with it the down-hill run toward the end of Block Ten, and the conclusion of my Associate Degree Program. In three short (hopefully) weeks, I will reach the half-way milestone in my pursuit of a Bachelor Degree. With help—I repeat: WITH HELP—I just may preserve my perfect GPA…at least for my 2-year degree.
Ask for help. It’s ok, really. On so many levels, you’ll be glad you did.
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I find it somewhat interesting how much significance routine has in the life of a dog. Our dog is pretty smart, for a dumb dog. I’m not a dog person…I like cats. Cats don’t need people. Dogs need people.
When we decided to get a dog last fall, I was not completely on board with the idea but it did not really seem fair that I came into the relationship with cats and the idea of a kid without a dog was just not fathomable to the other so-called adult in our family. (Who was he kidding…the dog was not for our son…it was for him under the guise of being for our son. Being the resident female and oblivious to such subterfuge, they were relentless with their argument.) At the time, there was always someone home during the day and not being big-picture thinkers (the child and the…uh…older child…) brought home an adorable puppy.
There are the age-old stories that begin with a pleading “can I keep him” and end in an unbreakable bond between boy and dog that do not hold a candle to the unbreakable bond between me and this…uh…older puppy. Because after the first couple of months of piddles and accidents mixed with living room romps and tennis-ball fetching, suddenly there was nobody home during the day and the dog had to wait patiently for relief (if you know what I mean). Being an indoor dog (for now…I’m anxiously awaiting the installation of our new fence) his potty breaks are subject to a fairly strict routine three days out of the work week. My husband’s work schedule allows him to be home two days during the week and he leaves for work later in the day so the dog’s potty breaks are now my responsibility. Go figure.
Three days a week, I come home for a late lunch so the dog can be relieved. He knows the routine too…I come home, he goes outside but does nothing but look over his shoulder at me, he comes inside and watches me to see if I’m going to stick around. He realizes that I am not going to stick around so he goes (on his own) back into his kennel and I leave. A few hours later, I come home for the day and he pesters me relentlessly until I get the leash and take him for his walk where he proceeds to deposit three separate times what he apparently has saved up since the night before. Not being a fan of the canine persuasion, this has to be the most humiliating part of dog ownership…having the entire neighborhood see the animal attached to me by a rope leaving his mark on every single blade of grass for 6 blocks and worse, having to pick up (three times) and carry back (three bags) of his business [you would think there would be a garbage can somewhere along a six-block city street, but nnnooooo].
What does this have to do with a working mom and returning to school? Everything. Routine is what helps me keep my time-management attempts on track. I can plan my homework around the known time-consumers of my day. The dog (I did say earlier that he’s pretty smart), although demanding and who can blame him after having to sit in a cage for the better part of 8 hours, is moderately satisfied that after the walk and about 15 minutes of ball-tossing and fetch, it is time for ‘mommy’ to sit down and get to work. He plops down at my feet and leaves me alone while I work, interrupting me only if he thinks he hears something (grrr) or if someone gets too close the house (woof).
Good dog.
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It is amazing how much more can get done when there is little or no racket occurring in my immediate surroundings. Ok, that sounds like stating the obvious but let me elaborate:
The past year of school, for me took place during a hectic time in my life combined with a cacophonous blend of disruptions including cell phones ringing, dogs barking, idiotic neighbors with their music blasting so loudly they’ll certainly be deaf before they hit their 30s, automatic litter box rakes stuck going back and forth trying to dispose of the glue-like deposit (clumping, sure…but what are they drinking for crying out loud that makes the stuff stick to everything???), televisions blaring with nobody in the room, not to mention my family interrupting me for the simplest of things (no, I do not know where the remote control for the T.V. is). On top of this, the angst of adolescence overcame our 12-year-old who increasingly wore thin both my patience and that of his dad. Without going into detail, a ‘last straw’ scenario occurred recently resulting in the departure of our last nestling (he went to live with his mother and stepfather).
This week’s assignments were completed early. That has never happened for me. No, they were never late…they were always on time…just on time. This week, however, I was able to get them turned in early. Today, Sunday, is the day that I typically spend frantically pulling together a decent submission due by midnight. Sundays are rarely spent in clothing that are not pajamas, and I cannot recall a Sunday where I could just relax and watch T.V. or run errands or cook a delicious meal (that is not previously frozen).
It is amazing what a little peace and quiet can do for the online student. Working moms know what I am talking about. Between work and being a mom, where is there ever any peace and quiet?
By the way, the cell phone isn’t ringing as much (because a child is not calling me every 30 minutes to ask if someone can spend the night), the dog is still barking (but that is because he’s looking out for me), the idiotic neighbors are still stupidly going deaf and taking the neighborhood with them, and the litter box still gets stuck. Nobody is looking for the remote control because it is always where it is supposed to be now, and I’m thinking about having steaks for dinner tonight.
Silence is a good thing.
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Today I watched part of the Commencement Exercises for the Class of 2008 at the University of Washington in Seattle. Being that I live in California and the University of Washington is in Seattle, my ability to watch part of their commencement exercises was due to the fact that I watched it online; it was a webcast, broadcast by the school’s television station (very cool, by the way…the concept was kind of neat and potentially saved a bunch of people the nightmare of parking and other travel-related issues).
My brother-in-law is the registrar at the U-Dub. I think that’s very cool too. I was instant messaging with my sister (and subsequently my nieces since whenever I get on with my sister, they are over her shoulder—that’s ok—I don’t get to talk to them often enough), and she led me to the link that allowed me to watch the pomp and circumstance. Being the registrar, my brother-in-law’s formal gown regalia (if that’s what it’s called) was a contrasting bright red to the university’s school colors of purple and white. Not that you’d need a bright contrasting color to pick my brother-in-law out of the crowd; he’s very tall (like, 6 foot 5 inches or something).
Anyway…
In April, as completion of my Associate Degree program nears, I received notice from Axia College that I am eligible to participate in commencement exercises this month. The thought crossed my mind. At first, I thought it would be silly for an old woman like me to parade around with those kids barely starting out in the real world. Yes, a 2-year degree (especially at my age) is a fine accomplishment and is well worth celebrating with a bit of fashion and flair! Yet, it occurred to me that doing so might plant a seed that it was enough; that pushing forward for the next two years toward my goal of a Bachelor Degree was not really necessary. The past two years of school have given me a great deal; confidence mostly, in my abilities and in my carriage…my coworkers have noticed and commented on it (I did not realize it). Armed with that new level of confidence coupled with my experience in what I do for a living, I could well be where I need to be to continue to succeed no matter what, and might even be able to improve our circumstances, which has been the ultimate reason for going back to school in the first place.
I thought a lot about it prior to today and then watching the U-Dub graduates in their caps and gowns as they parade toward the school officials who hand them their memento of hard work and determination gave me a sort of boost of ambition and drive. It is not as though I really need a boost—I am dedicated to complete my program and get my degree, make no mistake. But seeing the elation on their faces as they exited the podium holding their diplomas high in the air and waving to their family and friends reminded me of how proud of myself I am to be pursuing the same thing, just three decades later. I have to admit, I got a little misty.
Class of 2010. Count on it.
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This stuff is starting to grate on my nerves. I asked a co-worker who has been on this earth for more than 70 years if she ever had to make use of, determine, calculate, or even look at a radical expression. I asked her if she ever in her careers (besides being a mom, she’s had two others) needed to know what the square root of anything was. Did she ever encounter a time when knowing the cubed root of something, or the nth root of the square root of something times the cubed root of something else, would mean the difference between getting the job done and a promotion.
She said no.
Of course she said no. Nobody needs to know this stuff. Nobody in the field of Business Administration needs to know this stuff. It is not relevant. It is inconsequential. It is superfluous. It is insignificant. It is a pain in the you-know-what.
Sometimes I think that college curriculums look for ways to intimidate would-be students. At best, they look for ways to humble students who would otherwise excel in everything else. After all, there cannot be an entire graduating class carrying perfect GPAs…
I was talking to my dad about my frustration and how I had come to the conclusion that Algebra was not about the math but you needed to know the math which is a problem for me (since I need to use my fingers to add 9 + 5 and actually come up with 14…it is 14 right? Wait…9: 10, 11, 12, 13, 14 [holding up fingers one by one]…yes, 14) and he said something along the lines of it being not about being able to add two plus two but it was being smart enough to manipulate the numbers in such a way that adding two plus to is intuitive.
Uh…yeah. That’s what I meant. Wait. HEY! I think he just slammed me.
Radical expressions…HA! I’ll give you a radical expression…
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It took me more than eight and a half hours to complete 23 questions on the Week 4 quiz in my Algebra 1B class. I poured over the textbook (thank goodness it is open book), I double-checked my answers, I collaborated with a classmate, and I had my college-age son (who has always been a wiz in math—he was in AP math in high school and even went on to Calculus) look it over before I turned it in. I could not have been more confident in my work than the moment I clicked on the “submit” button. Instantaneously, my confidence was dashed.
Your score: 60.9%.
What?
Yep…it read 60.9%. A D-. That’s a D minus. Worse than a D. A D-MINUS.
Incredulously, I stared at the screen. How could this be? I worked so hard on that. I was so confident. I had help understanding it and my work had been checked. How could I miss nine out of 23 questions?
I went back to review my mistakes and learn from them. In nearly every case, my mistake was sheer inattention to detail. A misplaced negative sign; an overlooked double-negative; a multiplication error; not completely simplified; a dropped exponent. Sigh. Algebra 1B is not easy. I thought Algebra 1A was hard. Algebra 1B is harder.
Once again I must resolve myself to be prepared to accept less than an A or, in this case, perhaps even less than a B in a class. My GPA is in peril. My daughter (also in her Bachelor Degree program) said that she would not want to be around the day I get less than an A. She says my OCD is nearly as bad as hers when it comes to school (I disagree, but then maybe that’s just my OCD talking?) and that she cried when she got her first B.
Geez, at this point in the game I’ll be happy with a B.
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Before anyone goes off and says I just copied from another blogger let me just say it first: Yes, I got the idea for this topic from another blogger. However, in my own defense, while making a comment to her on her blog it occurred to me that I could expand on the topic and write my own. So, I am doing just that…not an original idea…but my perspective on her idea, infused with my own experience. Enjoy.
Sometimes, when reading posts from my classmates, I am baffled and amazed (and admittedly appalled, but that is just my OCD rearing its ugly head) at the quality, or better lack of quality, of writing that I am forced to read and, worse, respond to. I find it difficult to understand how these people are even in college, let alone staying there for their lack of writing skills. A significant portion of my grade is dependent upon my ability to effectively write a college-level paper; correct grammar, correct spelling, correct formatting, correct citations and references. Yet, very often, I see my classmates’ ineptness at these things in the discussion forums. Moreover, the discussion forum responses are required to be substantive: more than a one-liner and on topic. Yet my classmates’ posts are incomplete, horribly composed, full of spelling and punctuation errors, and missing vital citations (sometimes it is quite obvious they have used the copy and paste feature where their content is word-for-word from the text). Other times, when the assignment requires multiple topics be addressed, the classmate will respond to one or two and overlook another.
Granted, my posts are far from perfect, and an occasional mistake sneaks through. (If I catch it in time, I will go so far as to remove the post, correct it, and repost it.) I, however, make a concerted effort to ensure that I have addressed all of the topics, that my spelling is perfect, my punctuation is correct, and my grammar is excellent—these things are crucial when communicating via the written word.
Online learning is dependent upon the student and teacher being able to communicate effectively. Two of the very first classes I was required to take focused on this very topic. Entitled Effective Persuasive Writing and Skills for Learning in an Information Age were very informative and educated the student in proper and required format for online learning. Shortly after these two classes, I took Written Communication, also required by Axia College. These three classes provided me with what would become a refresher course on proper writing techniques.
Did my classmates not have to take these classes? If they did take these classes, did none of it stick? I wonder: Are their posts so atrocious because of sheer laziness? Do they write them ‘on the fly’ and not bother to double-check for errors? Do they not double-check that all of the assignment has been addressed?
I am sure that most people have heard the saying “there is never a second chance to make a first impression.” It applies in the online classroom as well.
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The price of a gallon of gas has doubled since I began my degree program in 2006. It probably has more than doubled—I paid $4.34/gallon yesterday; my husband paid $4.49/gallon the day before. I live in an area of the country that repeatedly lands on the list of the most expensive places to live in America. I work to live and I live because I work—I have no life…I can’t afford one.
The decision to go back to school came with a hefty price tag. On top of everything else keeping us in the red financially, I was going to add a student loan which, by the end of my Bachelor program was going to top $40K. No problem, I said to myself, I’ll just keep sending in those scholarship applications—as many as I can—and hope there is some philanthropic body out there willing to support an old lady like me. I mean c’mon…I can be their poster child (ok, poster woman) for promoting their cause or their product. Effective July 1st of this year, tuition is going up again. Sigh.
Sometimes I see these cars on the road that have graphics permanently painted on them brightly and boldly advertising a company. I’ll do that. I’ll even sign a contract that says I have to drive at least 100 miles a day—gas prices or no gas prices—if they will grant me a scholarship that will cover my mounting student loan.
I remember an episode of Gene Simmons Family Jewels where Gene takes his family on a vacation road trip in a rented RV. He got to use the RV for free because he negotiated with a company to place their billboard-sized advertisement on it. It was quite a humorous episode of the show (they always are, but this one was especially so because the company manufactures and sells male-enhancement products. Needless-to-say, the “Gene”-ious of Mr. Kiss-Rock-Star-Simmons not only kept a few dollars in his pocket, but became the story line of a great half-hour of entertainment.
I’d do it. Most definitely…any product they want (as long as it’s legal)…if a company will pay me enough money, I’ll take the long way to work; I’ll park on the street day and night; I’ll honk my horn at intersections and railroad crossings; I’ll drive the speed limit (which in the Bay Area will attract all kinds of attention); I’ll put 1000 miles a month on the car…even though my commute is less than 7 miles round trip…
I just need to figure out how I’m going to pay the tab after my education is complete. If they keep upping the cost of college credits, I’m going to have to find a more lucrative means of bringing in the bucks since the scholarship people are not paying any attention to me.
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