I have always had mixed feelings about August: I dislike it because it feels like the hottest and longest month of the year, but I also look forward to it because it signifies that fall — my favorite season — will soon arrive.
When I was a student, my mixed feelings extended far beyond the weather to include the academic world: The coming of August meant that summer vacation was almost over, but also that a new school year would soon begin, bringing with it new books to read and new subjects to explore.
The new school year I remember most vividly was in 1974, my first year at NC State. While I was excited by the prospect of learning many lessons in this new academic world, it was the world outside the classroom that would teach me the most important lessons in my first year.
As a small-town girl who had not traveled much beyond her home, I learned very quickly that the world was filled with an interesting assortment of people with vastly different backgrounds and experiences. My best teachers in this subject area were as different as two people could be.
My roommate, a girl from New Jersey named Dale, was my principal instructor. A friendly but somewhat brash person, Dale introduced me to the f-word, something I had only heard in one R-rated movie. I had been taught not to use profanity, so you can imagine what kind of experience it was for me to listen to Dale talk.
Perhaps the most interesting lesson Dale taught me was that not everyone comes from a home where parents have conventional occupations. When Dale told me her mother was a telephone psychic, I thought she was kidding, but she wasn’t. Coming from a long line of farmers, brick masons, and dry cleaners, I was used to seeing people come home covered in sweat and dirt. I couldn’t picture my father or grandfather sitting at a telephone all day, reading tea leaves or tarot cards to strangers.
When Dale wasn’t regaling me with stories of her life in New Jersey, I was listening to the confessions of a boy named Ricky, a freshman living in the dorm next to mine, who was extremely homesick. Ricky managed to stay through the first semester, but he didn’t return in January. I learned later that he was overwhelmed by the size of the campus, which was larger than his hometown. Unlike Dale, Ricky didn’t have the ability to adapt to new places.
Unlike Ricky, I was excited to be on a large campus with new places to explore. My only problem was that my sense of direction, or lack thereof, frequently led me astray. During orientation week, I had to take a placement test for French, and the building I needed to go to was across campus from my dorm. Naturally, I went to the wrong building, and when I found the right building, the testing sessions were finished. I ended up in French 101, a class that actually turned out to be a wonderful experience. The instructor was delightful, and I aced every test because I had already completed three years of French in high school.
My most enduring lesson in my first year involved a curtain and a sudden change in the weather. I was in a “Living and Learning” program that required its members to attend a workshop in late September. When we boarded the bus to go to our weekend retreat, the temperature was about 80 degrees. The next morning, when we woke up, the temperature was about 40 degrees. I hadn’t packed a sweater, so I had to improvise to keep from shivering. Like “Gone with the Wind’s” Scarlett O’Hara, I found my answer in a window. I grabbed the curtain in the window next to my bed, wrapped it around my shoulders, and wore it to breakfast, proudly showing off my survival skills. Decades later, I remember this experience and always pack a sweater when I travel.
Say what you want about the virtues of studying quantum physics, civil engineering, or medicine: My appreciation of the nearly infinite varieties of human experience, coupled with the wisdom of always packing a sweater, have been two of the most valuable lessons I learned in college.
Mary Zahran, whose sense of direction has only grown worse with age, can be reached at maryzahran@gmail.com.
Read CityView Magazine’s “Back to School” August 2024 e-edition here.