<p>When it comes down, it isn’t so much WHERE you go to school as it is WHO is there as well. While I’m still in high school, I thought you would enjoy reading this anecdote from a couple days ago relating to my part-time community college experiences. (FYI – I’m using my teacher’s last initials – that’s ok, right?)</p>
<p>To begin with, I originally was not thrilled with the prospect of attending a community college part-time for my math and science courses. As a homeschooled student from a rather conservative (read: somewhat narrow-minded) background, I was convinced that CC’s were full of high school dropouts who smoked pot, had terrible work ethics, and had no ambitions for their lives. I also wasn’t too excited about being taught by instructors/professors, who, as far as I supposedly knew, didn’t care for their students as unique individuals. Making a long story short, I was very wrong. Before I knew it, I was making friends with fellow students, many of whom shared my ambitions to eventually become a doctor. Even more surprising to me was the rapidity with which I began to get to know my instructors. In the three years I’ve been at my CC, I’ve attended one prof’s band’s concert, I’ve taken another one out for coffee, and I’m currently making plans with another (who I’ve actually never taken a class with – just chatted all the time!) to finally meet her daughter (also my age) and play bocce ball with the two of them as well as with yet another instructor. And several of them are planning on attending the poster presentation for a research program I’m doing in the summer! Yes, I’ve come a long way in the past three years.</p>
<p>What has struck me most about my CC instructors is their willingness to get to know students. Make no mistake – they aren’t the types of people who invite every single student over for dinner (truth be told, I haven’t been to any of their houses). But they all took the time to go out of the way to see a student who loved to learn (me!), and they encouraged her. Going beyond their involvement in my academic life, I have gotten to know several of them on a personal level, and they have let me know that I am welcome to do so. I have prayed with one, cried with several, and laughed with many. Tuesday was no exception.</p>
<p>On Tuesday morning, I took the Calculus BC exam at my local public high school before heading over to the CC to tutor some students. Let’s just say that the exam didn’t go well, which was quite a surprise, considering the fact that I have one of the highest A’s in my college calculus class and that I am one of the two primary math tutors on campus. After that exam, I didn’t want to see a calculus problem ever again. Upon arriving at the CC, I miserably trudged into one of the science/math buildings, thinking to myself, “My chances at Stanford are screwed.” The first two people I saw were Dr. B (first bio instructor I ever had – I went to her band’s concert several weeks ago) and Dr. G (never actually took a class with her, but I’m getting to know her quite well). Dr. G – in the most loving, concerned way – said, “You don’t look so great.” “I’m not,” I blurted. “I just had the AP Calculus exam, and I don’t think it went that well,” I lamented as I fought to hold back tears, aware that my voice was cracking. Firmly but gently, Dr. G told me, “You are such an amazing person – one exam isn’t a big deal, and you’ve proven yourself already by doing so well in a college calculus course.” Dr. B essentially repeated Dr. G’s words, and told me about a time she thought she had bombed her GRE’s but in fact ended up doing very well. I walked away from that conversation with a bit more confidence than I had entered it with, but I still felt a little down on myself throughout the day.</p>
<p>In the afternoon, I decided to head over to Mrs. S’s office. I’ve known her for a couple years, and she’s keeping tabs on all my AP’s. I knocked on her office door, went in, and basically told her what I had told the others. Slowly, she got up from her desk, walked over to me, and gave me a big hug. “It’s OK,” she said softly. “I know you studied so hard and gave it your best.” We talked for a little while about exams, their relative importance in the long run (or lack thereof), and the necessity to put an unpleasant exam experience behind me. Before long, Ms. P, my anatomy instructor (known her for two years as well – she’s also a good friend of Mrs. S) walked into the office, and asked, “So, how did the exam go?” Once again I repeated my story, and the three of us continued our discussion. “Focus on the positive,” said Mrs. S. “You are such a well-rounded person. You are literally the most hard-working person I know.” Turning to Ms. P, she said, “Julie did a presentation last semester in my genetics class that blew everyone else away. She works so hard.”</p>
<p>Pretty soon, I was feeling a lot better about myself, thanks to the respective conversations (OK, some chocolate-covered walnuts from Mrs. S may have had something to do with it!). I walked to my next tutoring appointment so uplifted, thanking God for my teachers. True, I may not have been enthusiastic in the first place about attending a CC. Indeed, my CC isn’t the most prestigious place in the world. But don’t get me wrong: Walking out of Mrs. S’s office and reflecting on my conversations with my instructors, I felt loved – and I wouldn’t trade that feeling for anything in the world.</p>
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