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| | From Frightened Rabbit to Honor
Graduate
By Joy Williams
September 9, 2002
There were only 27 students in my high school
graduating class. I grew up four miles from the village of Sun and one mile
from a community we called Talleytown - but everyone else called it the
boonies! My dreams of college had long been pushed aside for marriage and
children. Now that my children were in school, those dreams finally became a
reality as I entered college 16 years after high school. My pastor’s wife
helped make this dream a reality by encouraging me to enter college with her.
Taking the College Entrance
Exam was a daunting experience for me¾
and getting registered was even worse! The registration lines (this was before
the days of online registration) had more people in them than the whole
population of my hometown! I was so confused and scared that I could hardly
remember my own name. In fact, when I heard someone call for those whose last
name began with “I—O,” I switched lines. Then a friend brought to my attention
that Williams had always started with a W. Well, I consoled myself, “W” could
possibly be considered an upside down “M”!
Having survived
registration, I was ready for the first week of classes, or so I thought. Still
scared that my brain had atrophied during those 16 years of not being in school,
I left for the first day of classes with my young son’s comment about my brand
new college shoes ringing in my ears: “Well, Mom, when I look at your feet,
you look young.”
That first semester, I had
one history class that I loved and breezed right through. The other ones, well,
at least I lived to tell about them. I have always been terrified of speaking
in front of people, so the only reason I had scheduled a speech class was that
it was one of the only classes left with an opening, and it was being taught at
night in my hometown. On the first night of class, the professor had us give a
short speech introducing ourselves. I nervously rattled through a sentence or
two and then quickly ran to my seat. The professor then terrified me even more
by making me return to the front of the class as she announced to the class,
“This is my example of what I call the frightened rabbit.” Turning to me, she
said kindly, “Honey, the reason you almost passed out is that you weren’t
breathing.” (At least I learned something in that first class.)
The science professor had
been drafted from teaching microbiology to grad students into teaching this
freshman biology class. He sounded as if he were speaking a foreign language.
I studied much harder for that first science test than I had studied during all
of my entire high school years
¾and
barely passed the test! Only a friend’s encouragement that the grades would
have to be curved kept me from dropping the class. I was beginning to wonder if
I could even pass anything in college. Maybe my brain wasn’t working any
more.
My first college algebra
class was even worse than the science class. I don’t think the professor even
knew a language. I headed straight for the drop/add office and switched to a
“lower, easier” algebra class. This professor had a patch over one eye and
glared at us with the other. She informed us in no uncertain terms, “ I will
give you all that you need to make a ‘C’ in this class, but you are really going
to have to work for anything else.” Then she proceeded to show us how she
taught her calculus class. Calculus? I needed to start with 1 + 1, and
she was putting calculus on the board? So back to the drop/add office I
went and this algebra class, too, was dropped. What was I, a thirty-something
mother of two, doing in college anyway?
In between trying to keep
up with two children, housework, husband, homework, church work, and more
housework, I learned to live by a motto that I had learned at my children’s
summer crusade: “Do your best and let God do the rest.”
Sometime during that first
nightmare of a semester, I realized that I enjoyed learning and that I really
could keep up with those young things that seemed to breeze through their
classes and not worry about grades. I even relaxed enough during the last year
of college to sit in the back of the class with those who treated college a
little less seriously than I.
My children both enjoyed
and endured the next 4 1/2 years of my college life along with me. They even
went to a few classes with me, and I even used them for examples in some
speeches. (One speech was on illiteracy, and I thought my younger son was a
good example since he did not like to read.) They seemed to especially love
the times that I had a big test. It was party time because Mom was too
stressed and distracted to enforce the rules. They set up a whole band in the
living room complete with drums and trumpets. They cooked all the frozen pizza
that I had bought (they didn’t like that kind) and served it to all the kids in
the neighborhood. Somehow in the midst of all the chaos they developed a
respect for learning that is with them today as they pursue their own college
and career dreams.
While enduring and
surviving (even the algebra class that I finally had to take), I never seriously
considered giving up as an option, because I kept the dream of graduation always
before my eyes. When graduation day finally arrived, it was all I had dreamed
and more¾worth
every struggle, all the expense, every drop of midnight oil. I had given my
best, and God had certainly done the rest, as I was graduating summa cum laude.
The magic of the moment was
not even dimmed when my cap fell off my head, and some of the professors
standing near had to pick it up for me. Not only could I breathe easily even at
this somewhat embarrassing moment, I even joined in their laughter. How far
that frightened rabbit had come, and how proud that freshman speech teacher
would have been!
Many years ago, I started
the Christian school of life with a different graduation in mind. Though I have
been through the “Though he slay me, yet will I trust him” test like Job, “the
valley of the shadow” test like David, and my own small Gethsemane test,
quitting has surely never been an option. In the words of Garfield and my
pastor: “Big, fat, hairy deal.” For, you see, I have had a sneak preview of
this graduation. I heard something about streets of gold, walls of jasper,
gates of pearl, no more tears, no more sorrow, no more parting. I just have this
feeling that it will be worth whatever I have to face to make this one. So let
me go dream about it. Better yet, come dream along with me!
ninetyandnine.com
© 2002, Joy Williams
---------
Joy Williams
has been working as an accountant since graduating from college. Somehow the
memories of all the drudgery of college seem to have faded as she entertains
thoughts of pursuing a master’s degree in the near future.
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