A college primer from some who've been there (we think)

by Beth Teitell
Wednesday, September 4, 2002

As a person who's so obviously making the most of her college education, I'm frequently asked to give advice to students (and by ``frequently,'' I mean once, last week, when my editor mentioned we were doing a college supplement and asked me to write a column for students).

It was an excellent idea, and I could have done research and compiled a list of lofty suggestions, but instead I decided to be true to myself, and operate the way I did in college, which was to get in with a smart study group and make brownies in lieu of contributing to the project itself.

So as the deadline for my column neared, I updated my bribe (Oil of Olay moisturizer), gathered a bunch of certified college graduates, and put the question to them: What did you learn in school?

I was expecting to hear about figures from literature, and rock formations and ancient civilizations, but this was the first bit of learning recalled:

``If you were caught walking home at 6 a.m. on a weekend more than once,'' Graduate No. 1 (Class of '93) said, ``you were pretty much a slut.''

She surprised us by revealing that she'd taken a course on the microbiology of cancer and AIDS, but then unsurprised us by admitting that the sole thing she remembered from the semester - and indeed from her entire college career - was a study done with mice that showed the only way to prolong life is to stop eating so much.

Useful information, to be sure, but if you take into account the costs of room and board, a weekly Weight Watchers meeting might have made more sense than four years in an institution of higher learning.

But shallow as her education was, she at least recalled being in school, something Graduate No. 2 (also Class of '93) didn't.

``I'm not sure I went,'' she said, as she helped herself to some moisturizer. And then, as if she were in an ejector seat, she jumped up and ran to the phone.

``I wonder if I could call (my school) and find out what classes I took,'' she said, more excited than she'd ever been about her education.

While she was on the phone trying to score her transcript, Graduate No. 3 (Class of '82) piped up. ``I took astronomy one or two semesters,'' she said, ``and twice since then I've met people named after unusual stars - Rigel and Aldebaran - and I've been able to say to them, `You're named after the star!' It really impresses people.''

``My mouse thing doesn't impress anyone,'' Graduate No. 1 said sadly.

But Graduate No. 3 wasn't the recall genius she first appeared to be. She admitted she remembers nothing else about astronomy, and, additionally, fears she's already met her lifetime allotment of Rigels and Aldebarans.

She did remember taking a pre-Raphaelite art class, which initially impressed everyone, until it emerged that her strongest memory was not of any paintings, but a compliment the professor paid her neck.

``The women had long, curly hair and columnar necks,'' he said, looking at her. ``You have the neck!''

Meanwhile, while we'd been squawking away, Graduate No. 2 had made some progress unearthing her own past. ``It turns out I minored in sociology,'' she said, heading over to the fax machine to wait for her transcript to come through.

But the fax machine was jammed. ``Does anyone know how to fix this?'' she asked, her college career hanging in the balance.

Which brings me to the advice section of this column: If your school offers a course on fixing the fax machine, take it.