Today was orientation for students new to the Curriculum and Instruction program at UT.
Bold, earthy, and robust describe the employee-description of a kind of coffee I purchased at that nameless swanky grocery store where I always leave feeling a little bit entitled to piped-in lounge music, high-end salsas, and gourmet lifestyle. When countries are only important because of the origin of the coffee bean, you know you and the people you represent are in trouble. Yikes. (And I try to stay informed, but I’ve been so well marketed to that many countries DO mean more to me because of their coffee beans.)
So the orientation wasn’t bold, earthy, or robust. But it was informative, and maybe my header got your attention–and there’s a reason. Here are some nibbles of information that seemed important:
1. Earthy–Get a bike. You won’t find much parking on campus. Or learn to use the buses.
2. Bold–Learn to “balance” (this from the last in a line of about seven grad students on a panel–why wasn’t this advice given earlier)?
3. Robust–You will deal with lots of numbers–course codes, registration dates, your “RIS” (something that means there’s a widget in the way electronically of your registering, namely–tuition payments, overdue book fees, parking tickets, etc.). I had a quick flashback to a scene from Woman in the Dunes where the protagonist laments how he has been reduced to a series of numbers and forms of identification–perhaps the moment where he was willing to lose all that and spend the rest of his life fighting sand while regaining his sense of self by throwing those numbers to the wind.
***
I met with my sort-of advisor on the spot (sort-of because, I’m told, you shouldn’t commit to an advisor until your research interests are much clearer). I was the one doctoral student in my program at the orientation (should this worry me–there was a mini repeat session this evening as well?) among lots of technology and education folks (some curriculum and instruction, as well). He advised me the way my priest counseled my husband and I before our marriage–guerrilla style advice-hit hard and fast, and hopefully glossing the essentials. He mentioned having family and/or friends in town this afternoon, hence the quick meeting? On one hand I’m lucky to get any facetime with him; on the other–I’m high maintenance and want to feel like I know what I’m doing. One big nugget of good advice from him–go ahead and take the somewhat advanced qualitative methods course with a good prof in my program. I hadn’t planned on it, but my sort-of advisory agreed I’d be ready and that the professor didn’t have prerequisites that would keep me out of the course.
My s-o advisor signed my “advised” form in front of the graduate coordinator and the Graduate Advisor (also a professor at UT). ”Oh, a blank check?” half-smile, raised eyebrows. My s-o advisor communicated a lot in about 10 steps of facial gestures to him. It was a short study in a long history of love.
Back in the larger orientation session, I think the 30 or so other students were either completely overwhelmed and had almost no questions or they were frustrated at the two women who had lots of questions (a Spanish woman behind me, and, well, me). ”What do you do when you want to register for a course that’s already full? How do you get your on-campus wireless to work? What does the second digit in the generic course code (not the “unique number” we’ll need to register with) mean?”
The out-going (pun intended) graduate coordinator is moving into a higher, warmer spot at UT–and he is clearly a genius. He managed to cut off the Graduate Advisor so that the new students might meet briefly during the break with the eight or so professors who had dutifully made their appearances at our orientation. I could tell this man had skills as he cut him off. I was wondering if he’d do it while the profs waited in the back of the room–and he was clean, quick, and graceful. He’s also a juggler. Really.
Classes start in a week. I have a list of the five I’d like to take. I can only take three. My future may or may not depend on who I start to learn from now and the way I tune my own research interests (all 31 flavors) into the expertise of the folks I’ll be studying with. I will log in promptly at 10 am to register (as indicated in my online sign-in slot) while I participate in the beginning of the Institute meeting at 10 am (the institute where I’m implementing student advisory at a local middle school). I can only hope those classes will be bold, earthy, and robust.
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