No More Pencils, No More Books...

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: I know you all lie to keep current on my family news, so I thought I'd give you an update. The Maine Millennial is looking for work after being corona-fired from her last job. Any suggestions for professional employment in Southern Maine or online employment anywhere gratefully accepted. The Sailor is still in Norfolk, working hard. He wants to make E-5 before his first enlistment is up in two years, so there's a lot to do. 

And I just took Youngest back to the University of Maine.

I hear you gasping. I know, believe me.  The news is full of stories about colleges and universities bravely reopening, only to face a surge of covid-19 infections. Places like University of North Carolina have welcomed students back and sent them home within a week, converting to online-only. The University of Maine is doing everything other schools are doing - testing upon arrival, mandating social distancing and cleaning everything in sight. (When we got to Youngest's room - a single - along with the usual desk, bed and chair we found a spray bottle of disinfectant, eight ounces of hand sanitizer, and a jumbo box of tissues.)

photo by Linda Coan O'Kresik, Bangor Daily News

The administration is also, like many other schools, having the students sign a pledge, with wording that's a cross between 19th century hygiene reformers and the Boy Scouts.  Like many other schools, I expect it's about as meaningful as a fart in a hurricane. Eighteen to twenty-two is not an age period known for it's cool assessment of risk-reward ratio. I was a smart and fairly mature young woman in college, and there were many times I displayed the judgment of a drunken racoon in a restaurant dumpster. I don't expect the younger generation to do much better.


Youngest and I went around and around on this for most of the summer. She had a good plan to go to Kosovo, where she had friends she could share a flat with and where she (hopefully) will be spending Spring semester. But as you may have noticed, getting into Europe is...tricky for Americans at this point. She considered staying home and taking all her classes remotely, but the chance to partake in a few in-person seminars with favorite professors tipped the balance.

The dorm has single-occupancy bathrooms!

Also, frankly, she missed her friends and wanted out of the nest. As did Guest Son, who decided to put his senior year on hold, but got a shared student apartment near campus and is looking for a job. I can't blame either of them - it's good and right to be on your own and with peers at this point in their lives. 

So off they went, kit, clothes, bedding, boxes and multiple masks for each of them. I promised Youngest I wouldn't look at the New York Times coronavirus outbreak statistics more than once a day. (I just checked the headline. More than 1,000 cases at the University of South Carolina. I may take up day drinking.) 

 


The thing is, as the chancellor of the U Maine system said, if it can work anywhere, it will work in Maine, where we've consistently been one of the three lowest states for community transmission since March. We're rural, geographically remote (Orono is closer to Quebec City than it is to New York) and have been doing pretty well on mask wearing and social distancing.

 

Yes, her masks always coordinate with her outfits.

Of course, the converse is true as well - if it can't work in Maine, it can't work anywhere. Half the student body of UMO (as the flagship campus is known) comes from out of state. So I'll be hoping and praying and not badgering Youngest and Guest Son with texts and phone calls asking them if they're wearing their masks and avoiding parties. I hope it will work, and that they won't have to come home before Thanksgiving.

 
But I'm keeping the beds made, just in case.

Do you have or know of anyone struggling with at home versus in-person learning, dear readers?

The Accepting Parent: the adventure of Accepted Students Day

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: Over the years, dear readers, it's been my pleasure to be your guide to all things collegiate, from taking tours to moving-in-day, from having your university student home for the holidays to having her home for good (or until she moves in with her boyfriend, which may FINALLY be happening next month. Don't get me started.)

I'm back with another adventure in the fields of academe: the Accepted Students Day. That's right, Youngest, who first made her appearance in this blog at the age of ten (she had just started reading the Harry Potter series) is headed off to college this fall. The lucky institution? The Honors College at the University of Maine, which offers a core civilization and classics curriculum, its own dorms and classroom spaces, and - this is the part I get a little dizzy over - enough in grants and scholarships that Youngest will be able to graduate debt free. I'll give those of you who are still paying off loans a chance to sit down and breath it through.

Before making that decision, though, she wanted to get an in-depth look, so off we went to Orono, Maine (an almost three hour trip, which reassured her I wouldn't be "too close" to, I don't know, pop over and tuck her in at night. My children have always deeply overestimated my interest in what might be going on in their dorm rooms.)

Accepted Students Day is to the campus tour as a full-blown wedding vendors fair is to skimming The Knot. Every kid there has gotten that lovely fat envelope, and every parent has seen the financial aid offer, and the university is there to seal the deal, with administrators, deans, professors and some VERY peppy students all showing up to tell you and your child in detail why this is the Best of all Possible Schools. Here are a few tips to make the most of your day:

1) Embrace the schmaltz. Every campus has a group called Key Club or Student Ambassadors or such, comprised of young people who will grow up to be Realtors and run car dealerships. They are super, super excited about Accepted Students Day. (I suspect surly, disgruntled university attendees are locked in their dorms until all the guests have left.)

 At UMaine, the incoming kids and their parents walked through a crowd of cheering, blue-clad youths and a giant inflatable bear's face to get into the Performance Center where everything kicked off. The bear mascot was there as well, giving high fives and punching it out...with parents, as the high-schoolers were to a man too cool/embarrassed/jaded to give it up for the Bear. We middle-aged folks were loving it, however, and why not? We're light years beyond cool, anyway. May as well cheer and applaud and ooh and aaah. The same thing happened when the program opened with a fabulous a capella group.

 "Oh, my God," Youngest said. "Can they get more cliched?" I, meanwhile, was butt-dancing in my seat.

2) Ease up on the cheerleading.  I really wanted Youngest to like UMaine. (In addition to debt free, my "parental expected contribution" was $200. Parents, I'll wait a moment while you fan yourselves.) So, I admit, I went a tad overboard. I got her a t-shirt. And sunglasses. I praised the theatre. I proclaimed the blueberry popovers the best ever (they were good.) I pointed out the architectural excellence of the buildings - yes, even the brutalist library. Why is it always the library? Finally, we were walking through a green area signed "Arboretum." "Gosh," I said, "Look at all the beautiful..." before I could say the word 'trees,' we had run out of them. It was a three-pine arboretum.

 "Mom," Youngest said. "You need to cool it." She was right.

3) Remember, you're not the prospective student. The university broke the kids into groups for sessions with the professor(s) heading up their departments of interest. Since Youngest is considering International Affairs, we hiked over to a conference space inside a cool museum of Native People's art and technology ("Mom! Stop looking! You're going to get lost!") to meet with their head. His presentation was so compelling, I  wanted to sign up. Afterwards, we stayed behind to speak one-on-one (Youngest was great about asking questions and zeroing in on her interests. At her age, my primary question was, "Where the boys at?") The professor had mentioned the intersection of climate change with national security, and I piped up about a program I had just heard on NPR. We discussed it for a minute, and he turned to Youngest. "You're interested in the international repercussions of climate change?"

"No," she said. "My mother is." Oops. 

As an aside, they should make a college for old people. It would be all about the academics, which we're finally mature enough to want to focus on, with a really good dining hall and ergonomically correct study carrels. Bedtime at 9:30, strictly enforced.

And in that vein: 4) The things that excite you and the things that excite your student will be different. What I swooned over: the classics curriculum, the museum, the language requirement and the squishy leather chairs in the Honors College reading room. What Youngest swooned over: cute boys, an in-depth conversation with a sorority girl, the study-abroad programs and the Adirondack chairs in the park outside the Honors College.

What we both liked: lunch, the century-old residence hall she hopes to live in, those blueberry popovers (really, they were bakery quality.) Is that enough to be going forward? Yes, yes it is. We sent in the deposit after we got home. Go Black Bears!