I would like to state up front that there will be no more introspective self-dissection today, as I am finding the process rather depressing, due to my profound inconsistencies and failures to hold the line on any of my stated positions. Time to move on for the moment. I may revisit some of these issues another day.

So. The College Fair. It was much more interesting than I anticipated, mainly because it offered me a window into a couple of different cultures that I�m not a part of: teen-parent relationships and the life of college admissions counselors. I�ve never worked a college fair before and, in fact, although I�ve been a donor to my college since I graduated, I haven�t done much volunteering for them before, beyond the occasional career consultations with students interested in entering my former field of employment. I was a little nervous, because I hadn�t been given much guidance on procedures and I have absolutely no recollection of any events like this I might have attended when applying to schools.

The fair was held in the gym of a nearby high school with a population roughly the size of my college. The place was crammed with tables. More than 100 schools were represented and students from about a 40 mile radius were attending. When I arrived, everyone was setting up with fancy embroidered tablecloths and large 3-d displays. I didn�t even have a nametag. I registered and picked up my info packet, which included data on the largest of the high schools in attendance at the fair as well as copies of a literary magazine and a CD of the choir from the host school. I also received bottles of water and a goody bag of snacks and a red calculator emblazoned with the host school�s logo. Free stuff!

A poised student was assigned to escort me through the registration process and then on to my table, where I laid out the propaganda my college had sent me to distribute and went over a few facts and figures: number of students, faculty student ratios, SAT scores, cost of annual tuition room and board, percent of students receiving financial aid, etc. After I was all set up, I grabbed my bag and went in search of the cafeteria where a free dinner was to be served. I grabbed only vegetarian option, a bowl of lettuce, and found a seat at a table across from an admissions counselor from Butler University in Indianapolis, who filled me in on the college fair scene.

I was the only alumni rep I encountered, although I imagine there were others. The vast majority of schools were represented by admissions counselors. I was feeling very unprofessional, but every admissions staff member I spoke with was helpful and seemed really impressed that I was there. They all talked about how hard it is to get alumni involved and wanted to know how I got into this and what made me volunteer.

The counselors were all staying in hotels in Schaumburg for several weeks while they made the rounds of college fairs in various places around the greater Chicago area. The ones I talked to all complained about the lifestyle, being on the road for weeks and months at a time. But they all looked like they were having a good time. Many see each other at fairs all over the place. The people I talked to also all enjoyed getting away from their desk jobs and meeting people. A woman from Southern Illinois-Edwardsville talked about how great it was to meet these kids and then see them on campus the next year. �You think, alright! We got her here! She made it!�

The other people that were fascinating to me were the parents and kids attending the fair. Watching the teens with their parents was an almost hypnotic activity. Half the time the kids were either ten feet in front of or behind their parents, desperately trying to look like they weren�t associated. But of course you could tell, since most of them looked exactly the same. Then there was the issue of wardrobe. There were a few mother/daughter pairs that dressed frighteningly alike. But mostly the teens were looking like they were trying to piss off their parents. And let me just say right now that I am very glad I have a son and not a daughter. Because there were very few girls there that I would have let out of my house in what she was wearing. There was one girl walking around with her father who was particularly horrifying. The father was wearing jeans and a polo shirt under a members only-style jacket. The girl was wearing a micro-mini skirt and a skin tight, low cut T-shirt over her well-endowed torso. As if the skirt weren�t short enough already, she had cut off the hem and unraveled part of the bottom. She paired this with a pair of stiletto heels and a whole lot of makeup. I found myself thinking, �What does she want to study, exactly?� It made me feel like an old fart.

Then there were the parents that actually gave their kids a reason to be embarrassed of them. Like the father who talked the ear off the woman at the table next to me for nearly a half an hour, complaining about the fact that he had been denied admission to their medical school more than 20 years ago because he was a white male and trying to get a guarantee that his daughter would get in, despite the fact that the daughter had not yet applied. Or there was the jokester dad who sent his son over to get info from my table (I was representing a women�s college) and stood there sniggering behind his back waiting for him to figure out that it was a girl�s school.

Being the rep for a women�s college, I talked to more parents than students. Generally, teenaged girls see that there are no boys and move on. I know I was like that. I only applied there because my mother made me, because she was sold on it. It was the first school I looked at, my first interview (�For practice,� is how my mom sold me on it). But the more I saw, the better it looked. And I would absolutely hands down go there again if I could do it over. There was the girl who asked if we had a program in fashion merchandising (not at a liberal arts college). The girl who wanted to know if it was a Christian school and when hearing no, asked why it was all women then. There was a really nice couple with their daughter who asked all kinds of interesting questions, bantered with each other and looked like they were all three having the time of their lives and were all excited about the future. I wanted them to adopt me. There was the nerdy girl from the science academy that talked so softly that her mom had to translate for me. There was a girl who came rushing up, handed me an info card she had filled out with one of the labels from the preprinted sheets she had brought with her. She started firing off a hardcore list of questions very intensely while writing down all the things I said. When I said I thought that the interview was important, that it could often make up for an imperfect package of grades and scores, she wrote her notes in large block letters and underlined them several times before shaking my hand briskly and sprinting off to another school�s table. There was the mom who said she wished she could go to college again so she could go there � I remember my mom saying something like that when I was applying to school. She went to a Big Ten school in the early 60s and wanted to major in geology but was denied the chance because the major required fieldwork in a location with no facilities for women. Instead, she majored in English. There were dads who were glad to find single sex living accommodations. There were girls who wanted to be encouraged and challenged. There were boys who were in the wrong place. There were students dropping things right and left. There were students so organized and polished, that they came with notebooks and color coded pens and preprinted labels with their address and phone number to slap on the info cards. The dads all picked up the financial aid brochures. The moms all asked about class size and junior year abroad programs. The students all wanted to know about the social life. One adorable mom tried to talk to me about her daughter without her hearing because the daughter was about to receive a book prize from my college for academic excellence but she wouldn�t find out about it until an assembly at school tomorrow. And there were countless parents who jumped in when we asked the students what they wanted to study, saying, �She wants to be a doctor,� while the students themselves squirmed uncomfortably. There were students who looked serious about the business of collecting information, students who looked bored, students who looked scared, nervous and shy.

It all made it abundantly clear to me that applying to college is a very different experience now than it was when I went through it. I didn�t take any prep classes for the SATs. I didn�t even study for them. I don�t remember attending any college fairs, and if I did, I certainly didn�t bring a list of questions and preprinted address labels. The process has been so professionalized. The young people were excited about it, but their parents were terrified. The questions surprised me too. I didn�t, for example, get a single question about how much it costs. I had been kind of nervous about handling that one because, well, 37K a year is a lot. But no one even asked.

The whole experience made me remember some of the reasons why I want to teach. The girls I actually talked to were excited about their life, the world opening up, new adventures. They were excited about learning. While there are aspects to an academic life that don�t suit me very well and can be deadening, my students have always fueled me. Well, some of my students have fueled me. Some drive you crazy too. But it�s nice to be reminded that you don�t have to always be where you are. I like being around people who are looking to move on, to change, to do something different. A college is a great place to be for that.

[This is my 3rd entry in the last 24 hours. Click back if you missed something]

0 people said it like they meant it