Civil unions. Marriage. Matrimony. Wedlock. Whatever. The point is, people, whatever their sexual orientation, should be able to shoulder the responsibility of marriage if they choose to do so. Vermont legislators said as much when they gave approval Tuesday to allow gay couples nearly all of the rights and benefits of marriage, making Vermont the first state to grant such privileges to gays and lesbians. The ruling, which was passed by a 79-68 margin, came after the Vermont Supreme Court unanimously ruled in December that gay couples were being unconstitutionally denied the rights and benefits of marriage. The Legislature calls these more than 300 benefits usually bestowed upon married couples a "civil unions bill," which isn't quite the same as marriage but is, instead, a "parallel system for homosexuals." We should all applaud Vermont for being the first state to go so far in acknowledging gay relationships, but there is still much work to be done. Vermont has done what should have been done a long time ago. That Vermont is the first state to make such moves speaks volumes about the levels of intolerance still present in society. It is popular for Americans to tout their democratic system of government as being one of the best in the world, but with a large segment of the country's population still being denied as basic a right as marriage, one wonders exactly what it is we're promoting. Vermont Republican Rep. Henry Gray, who presumably was voted into office by people who knew of his anti-homosexual views said, "This is against natural law." Too bad the nature he speaks of is the human tendency to discriminate.
College flawed by grading policy University learning must be reserved for those mature enough to appreciate it So this is it. I have racked up 124 credit hours, and now I can say I'm college-educated. I've always wanted two extra letters behind my given name, so as a mother of college-age children, I bought a backpack and signed up for a bunch of classes. I've been learning along the way anyhow - I might as well have a piece of paper that says I'm learning. I am a totally nerdy student. It is just that I truly love being in school, and I see the value in everything I can take in. So I go to class, sit on the front row, take copious notes, ask questions and study for tests as I go. I have a couple of small problems with formal education, however. There just doesn't seem to be enough of it to go around, so a sifting has to occur. The lumps in the sugar of education come in the form of grades. The bigger the lumps, the better your chance of getting and staying in school. A's are the big-daddy lumps, and anything below D falls right through the sieve. It is not the filtering itself that troubles me because I'm not that smart, and I've stayed on top through sheer hard work. Almost anyone willing to sweat a little should be able to get a degree. I've known some pretty stupid people who have degrees. No, it is grades themselves that bother me. I sat through a sociology of aging class that should have lasted about four weeks instead of 16. The material was not hard, but the professor only gave three tests, and the questions didn't reflect anything he rambled on about in class. Now my left-hemisphere-dead brain got a B in statistics; why I couldn't get an A in a class in which I was a living example is beyond me. One of my journalism professors said one day, "You all are too worried about grades." A chorus rose: "But I have a scholarship riding on my grades!" I was one of the singers. The prof was right, though. So much of our learning is directed toward taking tests that we forget to learn, beginning with TAAS in elementary school. Legend has it that sorority and fraternity residence halls have a file cabinet that glows like a sacred ark. In it is a priceless collection of old exams, edges yellowed and curled from years of tender handling by frantic students who haven't attended class enough to have notes to study. No wonder Dr. Raskopf makes at least two versions of every test, assigns test seats and lets students look at the test key only under the watchful eye of the department secretary. Now Dr. Raskopf is one of the finest teachers I have ever had. He has an outline for every lecture, he tells anecdotes to illustrate his points, and he gives his home phone number to students. His tests are hard, but anyone who goes to class and stays awake should do well. Then why do so many fail? I think the answer lies in my second problem with formal education. People should not go to college until they are at least 25. I can say that because I went when I was 18, again when I was 28 and now finally at 40-something. At 18, I didn't really know what I wanted, and since my parents had told me they couldn't help with my education, I didn't last long at college. No point spending my own money until I figured out what I wanted to be when I grew up. By 28, when I went back to school, I had been around the block enough times that the stuff in the lectures struck a familiar chord. Even the math made more sense because I had seen practical uses for it. I had met enough different kinds of people that new ideas I was exposed to didn't seem foreign. OK, 40 is a little late to be doing this, but the point is, by now I really appreciate it. Too bad I catch myself wondering just how well I have to do on a test or project to make the grade I want. It seems I learned so much more and enjoyed it more when I did it for the pleasure of learning. I hear that a visiting professor may not be back next year. The grades in her classes were supposedly too high. That is unfortunate because hers was one of the few classes where I learned things that were valuable to me personally. Do teachers have to give ridiculously impossible tests to be considered good teachers? Do I have to suffer intense mental anguish to say I am educated? I plan to continue my education. Maybe when I get a yearning for three more letters behind my name, I'll continue it in the classroom.
Jeri Petersen is a graduating senior news-editorial
journalism major from Salt Lake City.
As I look toward the East, I can see the shadow of graduation menacing my life like the giant, flying, fire-breathing turtle it is. Will it be friendly or malicious? This uncertainty breeds both excitement and anxiety within me. For instance, I have been scrambling to find a job, but not one that will doom me to a life of corporate redundancy. I realize that I am being picky and unrealistic, but one can always hope. In any case, here comes my final column as a Horned Frog. When I am handed my diploma on May 13, it will ignite the next stage of my life. All the comfort, sloth and irresponsibility I have been carefully cultivating the last four years will be effectively canceled. I will have to intensify my scramble to find a job and forge a future, while avoiding a stumble into some 40-year rut of drudgery and mediocrity. Sure I won't have the insular security of college life, but my time has come and gone. At the risk of spouting corny platitudes, I say to those who haven't been here very long, treasure your time here because it goes by a lot faster than you think. Put down that beer, and overachieve because overachieving leads to more of the enjoyable aspects of graduation excitement and fewer of the anxiety-inducing ones. Certainly, I have garnered enough knowledge from the 130-plus hours I've spent in the classroom, but the real lessons have come from outside the classroom. For instance, beer actually does kill brain cells. I thought this was a myth, but it's not, as I've since forgotten what I had for lunch. I'm pretty sure it wasn't beer. Also, girlfriends are good if you can get them. They're less good if you lose them, but they're good if you can get them again. I guess the hardest part of graduating is accepting that even though I'm only 21, it is time to move on, and clinging to the good ol' days will not help me deal with the future. I will miss a few things however. As Skiff columnist Alan Melson said, I will miss the banter and sarcastic exchange that flies around the Skiff newsroom like so much winged dog poop. I will miss hosting the only reggae radio show in North Texas and bragging about it. I will miss tremendously all the intellectual discourse shared over successive pitchers of beer. These things all exist in the form of wistful memories, but I will be Sally Forth with a smile on my face. The most important lesson I have learned is to cherish my friends above all else. They have been there for me, and I have been there for them, in times of joy and times of sorrow, in times of intellect and times of idiocy, in times of nudity and times of semi-nudity. Whether I was having trouble with girls or with grades, or if I was expected to save the school from giant robots or pterodactyls, my friends have been there. So don't ever take your friends for granted because it is they who are your most precious possession, more precious than cars, money or precious gems, but not quite as precious as water. Without water, you will die. On the other hand, without friends, you will probably want to. As I wrap this final whimper up, I would like to thank a few people for facilitating my little ride through the last four years. First of all, I must give it up to God. Sorry about any sacrilege. Also, my family, particularly to Mom and Dad and Papa. To my friends, you get the "golden ballcam award" because you are the best and have kept me going. Lastly, I want to thank everyone who has enjoyed my columns, especially those who have told me so. With that, I wish all of you the best. Enjoy the ride, because it comes screeching to a halt very soon.
Steve Steward is a graduating senior political
science major from Lodi, Calif.
Where did it all go? As I search for the things to say, I realize that college was all a blur. I feel as if I've been riding a four-year roller coaster from which I am about to be catapulted and thrown into the "real" world. Don't get me wrong: I do feel that TCU has prepared me for what lies ahead. But then, what is "real?" Interested in advertising since I was 18, I've known that I wanted to excel in school and then head for the "big time." All along I knew that the "big time" was probably not in Texas, but rather California or New York. So I worked hard, accomplished my goal and will be moving to Santa Monica, Calif., in June. Although this was something I had planned to do for the past four years, I began to doubt my decisions last month. Not about my career, but about moving right into the working world. The only thing that kept me sane throughout my agony was the comforting fact that I was not alone. I talked to other seniors who were also confused about what they should do after May 13. I discovered that many different groups exist, all with different plans. Several students never planned to go to work right out of college, so they are not going to. Others signed contracts with companies during the fall semester and have not looked back. Then there are the adventurous ones who want to experience the world around them before they are taken away from it and stuck behind a cubicle. And the rest have no clue. I used to think it was irresponsible to be in any group but the one that had a job lined up and was ready to work May 14. But I've decided there is nothing wrong with being a member of any of these groups - to each, his own. If I have learned one thing during my young adulthood, it is that everything happens for a reason. Once a decision is made, it may be the wrong one, but then we learn and grow from that mistake. And if the decision is the right one, it could mean a lot of happiness. My time spent in college has taught me a lot, but I must say that I learned more outside of the classroom than inside. Being involved on campus was rewarding for me, but if I had to do it over, I would have joined fewer groups. Many of us are interested in so many different things that we often overextend ourselves and then find it hard to give any one organization a strong commitment. I think it's better to be a part of few organizations and do many things within it. I was fortunate enough to go to the TCU London Centre for a summer. This was the learning experience of a lifetime, not to mention a great way to bond with my peers and professors. I think it is a shame for a college student to graduate without ever going abroad and not learning what else exists in this world. Aside from the decisions to be made about the future and the things that I learned at TCU, the most important part of my college experience has been my friends. We have helped each other through the hard times and have partied our way through the rest. I think our groups of friends have an incredible impact on the kind of college experience that each individual walks away with. If it weren't for the group of girls that I have been with for these four years, I would not have achieved all that I did. It also would be sad to remember college and not have any spontaneous things to look back on. Some of the best memories I have of college are of those times that were not planned. It's important to jump in the car and go camping or to leave your books for a while and take a study break at the Pub in your pajamas. My advice to those who still have time is not to cherish every minute, but to live each minute as if there were not another one. Don't worry about what you haven't done or what you still need to do. It's all about who you surround yourself with and what you decide to do at that moment.
Natalie Franks is a graduating senior advertising/public
relations major from Houston. |
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