In September 1970, I enrolled as a freshman at what is now called the University of Wisconsin at Stevens Point. I decided to enroll at “Point” based almost entirely on the fact that I had spent four summers in the late 1960s as an unpaid laborer on my uncle’s cucumber farm.
Uncle Roman and Aunt Blanche didn’t have children of their own and so were always happy to have extra hands to help out around their Stevens Point area farm – especially if those hands only cost them room and board.
Instead of spending all of my high school summer vacation lying around a Lake Michigan beach, sleeping until noon, or hanging out in the parking lot of the Sheboygan McDonalds, my two sisters and I, along with some of our Chicago and Toledo cousins, were bundled off by our parents to spend three weeks toiling under a blazing sun looking after seemingly endless rows of cucumber plants.
Besides providing my uncle with some low cost help, our time on the farm supported our parent’s conviction that manual labor would toughen up their “city kids”, as well as give us an appreciation for how some Americans earned a living.
In my case, all working on the farm did was reinforce my belief that any job that required me to get out of bed at the crack of dawn to fill and then carry heavy bushels of farm produce for ten hours a day while battling mosquitoes and large bees, was nothing I was interested in as a career.
I was going to college, man! I was going to work in an office with air conditioning. I would have clean hands.
As a rule, we got Sunday afternoons off from our chores. My cousin Janice had a beat up Ford that we’d use to drive into Stevens Point to see a movie, get a hamburger, or more often then not, just wonder around the grounds of the university trying to look like college students.
The late 1960s were the height of the student protest movement in the US and although activism at “Point” was a far cry from what it was at Madison or Berkley, there was still enough energy, idealism, and “we can change the world through peace and love” on that campus to convince a naïve small-town teenager that this was the college for him. In time, I would become a “Pointer.”
This September, our son Alex will be one of about 6,000 freshmen entering the University of Wisconsin at Madison. Alex has wanted to go to Madison ever since he saw the campus for the first time back in the 6th grade while attending a Badger football game. Although he researched, applied to, and was accepted by, five other private and public institutions around the country, once the UW acceptance letter arrived last winter any thought of attending another college went right out the window.
As we prepare to “have a kid in college,” I am struck by how different the run up to college is in 2008 from what I experienced in 1970.
Back then, preparing for your freshman year in college was done with little support from family, the university, or anyone else. Enrolling in college for many of us was just something you did during the summer after high school – really no big deal. You didn’t expect or get much guidance when it came to what classes to take, what college life was all about, or even what to bring with you when you arrived on campus.
Throughout my pre-college summer, Stevens Point sent me letters letting me know that I had been approved for financial aid, that I was to live in room 206 at the Knutson Residence Hall, and that I should show up on campus on a certain Thursday in August to register for fall classes. That was pretty much the extent of our communications.
On the appointed date, my uncle (I was still working on the farm) drove me over to campus and dropped me off at the Old Main Building. Over the next few hours, I waited in one long line to receive my financial aid check after which I walked over to another building to wait in another long line to sign the check over to the university to pay my fees.
With the money matters taken care of, I wondered over to a Point’s hot and crowded Quant Gym, where I spent 5 hours struggling to register for classes, many of which had been full for months, with only a vague idea as to whether any of these classes would actually satisfy my major requirement.
That evening, my uncle picked me up and drove me back to the farm where I continued tending to the cucumbers while waiting for school to start in September.
The difference between preparing for college then and now hit home two weeks ago when, Alex, my wife, and I attended our SOAR (Student Orientation and Registration) session on the UW-Madison campus.
SOAR prepares new UW-Madison students and their parents for life at the fourth largest university in the country. A world-class institution with over 42,000 students from around the world, a $2.5 billion annual budget, hundreds of under-graduate and graduate majors, and an alumni that includes Joyce Carol Oates, Jim Lovell, John Muir, and the Zucker Brothers of Airplane movie fame.
SOAR is also the time when freshman get to register for their fall classes – using a web-based system that makes registering as easy as buying an online concert ticket.
Let me say right off that, except for some really awful Lasagna Florentine we were served for dinner, SOAR is a first-rate operation from start to finish. There was nothing like it when I enrolled in college.
Over two days last month, we heard senior facility and staff members talk about various aspects the “Wisconsin Experience” – which the university describes as “producing graduates who think beyond conventional wisdom, who are creative problem solvers, and who know how to integrate passion with empirical analysis…as engaged citizens of the world.
A professor of African languages and oral traditions set the tone for our SOAR session with a lively, passionate, and inspiring talk about what it means to attend UW-Madison. During his speech, he managed to quote Socrates, Gandhi, Martin Luther King, AND Stephen Colbert, among others, so seamlessly and elegantly that even our usually cynical son was impressed and actually paid attention to what he said. No mean feat, professor!
The professor was followed by the retired head of UW financial services who lectured us on various money matters, including why UW will cost us around $20,000 this year, why living in the residence halls is cheaper than off campus housing, and why we should not allow Alex to have a credit card.
By the way, tuition at UW in 1961, when this speaker started with the university, was just $200.
Other SOAR speakers gave presentations on campus life (there are literally hundreds of student clubs and organizations), safety and security (don’t bring a new bike to school; don’t binge drink; don’t leave your dorm room unlocked), and how the use a WISCARD as a combination student ID, debit card, and bus pass. We also found out where to buy textbooks, what UW recommends in the way of computers, and who has the best hamburgers (Dolly Dumplings) and ice cream (the Union) in town.
Following a night sleeping at the Liz Waters Residence Hall (not recommended for anyone over the age of 30), Alex and the other freshman spent the second day at SOAR in academic advising sessions and fall registration.
While the kids registered, we parents took a campus tour, discussed academics with various college representatives, heard why we should sign up for the UW Parents Program, and received about 5 pounds of brochures, pamphlets, and other pieces of information concerning UW-Madison. There was also time left over to purchase logo ware and other trinkets at the UW Bookstore.
I would not have missed attending SOAR. It provided us with valuable information about the UW campus and the services available to Alex over the next four years. All of the presenters were knowledgeable, engaging, and accessible, and represented the university well. The overall level of professionalism at SOAR went a long way towards making us feel comfortable about our son attending UW-Madison this fall.
