Another Semester

This week marks the start of the second semester of the 2025-2026 school year. I have three classes this semester, and registration is almost complete with 20, 30, and 35 students, respectively. Tomorrow, I will work at the welcome tables to help ease students’ anxiety by letting them know which room their class is in and giving directions as needed. I enjoy this because I get to see some of my former elementary students. I also get a sense of the university’s overall population. It’s interesting to say the very least, but I will save my perspective on that for another day.

As I prepared the syllabi, I thought about my own first-day-of-college experiences. There was no welcome table. I drove to the parking lot in front of the building and looked around to find someone or something to tell me where I was headed for class. I found a list posted to the wall with the room numbers on it. Thank goodness. That was one issue resolved. I walked into English class. The professor was a small, petite lady with her hair pulled back in a bun. She was a very stick-to-the-point, listen-to-the-professor type. There was no smiling. I found out I only had 3 grades for the quarter (no semester back then) that would make up my final grade at the end of the quarter. My anxiety went back up because of only having the three grades. What if I messed up? I remembered that she started lecturing after going over the syllabus. She began to talk about existentialism and nothingness. I sat there like a deer in the headlights. I remember thinking my high school English teacher didn’t teach me anything about that. Was I in over my head? Should I even be here?

The second class was history. This professor was really reassuring. NOT! His first question was, “Where did you go to high school?” He asked everyone. When I shared the name of my high school, he looked at me and said I would never make it in his class if I went there. Well, thank you. I’m so happy to be in your class, I thought. I had to have this professor twice. I managed a B, even though, according to him, I came from a terrible high school and would not make it.

Thank goodness, things have changed at this university. The first thing I will do tomorrow is get a large iced coffee. We didn’t have a coffee shop back in the day. Lucky kids! I want to make a difference in how students are welcomed. I want them to see a smiling face, feel welcome at the university, and know they’ve got this!

Later…