1982 - 1986 The College (and More) Years
My dad left school after the 8th grade and my mom graduated from high school and went straight to work on her parents' farm. As far as I know, none of my generation of cousins on my father's side went to college until Jenny would go as an adult, graduating a few years ago. On my mom's side of the family it was something that was, if not expected, at least understood. Neither parent stood in the way of me going to college but neither could really help me get there either. They left the decision (perhaps as it should be) totally up to me and I chose a 4 year college closely tied with our church that was about an hour away from home.
Church, despite the aforementioned event, was an awesome place for me. I have had a belief, since very young, that Jesus's spirit is present and that the teachings of the new testament are a guide of how we really should live our lives. Beyond that, it was a place I received a lot of positives. The youth group leaders loved me. They were a very nurturing middle aged couple and they thought I was the cat's meow. As earlier, I was never really a behavior problem and though I could have a smart mouth to my parents, this didn't manifest itself either at church or at school. So, I gravitated toward a "Christian" college.
Beginning college in the fall of 1982 was a replay of beginning Kindergarten in the fall of 1969. I was totally out of my element. I didn't know one person there and it seemed as if everyone else came with a buddy or buddies from their church and/or high school. Even though I had developed adequate enough social skills to survive and even begin to thrive in high school, I was totally un-prepared for entering the college realm. Most of the kids at the college were from a much more charismatic Christian background than I was and spoke openly and outwardly about their faith. Suddenly I felt as though I had no faith whatsoever and this was a bad thing on that campus. My roommate, from Chicago, was nice enough to me but craved more excitement than I could offer. She was out and about quite a bit. This was the year that I first started having anxiety attacks. I tried to disguise them as best I could and generally functioned well enough to make it to classes but otherwise I spent quite a bit of time in my dorm room or at the library. Reading has always been a balm for me. I did make one really good friend this year. Laura was also kind of a malcontent in this "Jesus loves you, let's pray" environment. We made plans to room together our sophormore year but during the summer she decided she couldn't come back and went to a secretarial college instead. Why I went back, I'll never know.
The fall of 1983 was one extended anxiety attack. I had a room to myself because Laura decided not to return. I spent tons of time there alone. I switched majors a couple of times the first two years of school. Began in Accounting because I loved it in high school. College accounting was way different and when the best I could do was a "C" in the intro class, I knew I couldn't proceed. Elementary Education was next, but when I did a practicum in a special ed classroom my sophmore year and spent the time preventing the behaviorally challenged kids from leaving the room, I decided that wasn't for me either. Also, to be a really, really good elementary ed student, one had to be somewhat creative and make files of things for different lessons, bulletin boards, etc. I am not creative. I do not like scrapbooking moms because one day my daughters will marry their sons and the sons will have elaborate scrapbooks of every life event and my girls will walk into the marriage with their shoebox of pictures. I do not like stuff like that so elementary ed was out. At the time I was acing sociology and psychology classes, so they became my double majors.
