Loan me a future

Image via WikipediaThis will be a longer post than usual since it's been many weeks since the last one.

The wear and tear of jumping into school - coping with performance anxiety and living in the hyper-kinetic mode with student and personal responsibilities - sapped my time and energy. More accurately, this blog became that "one more thing" that dropped off the edge of my consciousness, or at least, my "To Do" list.

Suffice to say, my education experience has not been joyful. Hate school. Love learning. That's a post for another day, however.

What I want to spill are some thoughts and feelings about the value and cost of education. Last night at class, some students were discussing the loans from their first college go-rounds. Barely into their 30s, they are saddled with $30,000 - $45,000 debts. Like many Americans, they lost their jobs. Yet, here they are - courageously putting in long hours for no pay, hoping that opening textbooks opens the door to a second career, a secure livelihood in the fastest growing industry in America - healthcare.

For these students, and myself, each exam is a significant marker, one parameter to help us measure much more than what's retained from instruction. Last night's exam had most of us riled up. It was hard. Plain hard. No matter how much we studied, the material was overwhelming, perceived as a jumble of confusing details and terminology about cellular processes. Two hours before the exam, I knew my grade. I think we all did. As we awaited our fears to be confirmed, we obsessed. Is this education placing us any closer to jobs? Are our grades good indicators of whether we have the aptitude to work in health care? Can we make it over prerequisite hurdles to the core health sciences curricula? Will that be easier or harder than this? Someone piped up that the biology course is designed to shake out who's serious and who's not, who can hack the material and who can't. Most likely, that is true, whether intentional or not.

One student, echoing the group's apprehension and discouragement, remarked that he was considering going back to work in Newport News. Grumman just secured a $25 million defense contract for nuclear submarine maintenance.



"Every day, I ask, 'Why put myself through this stress'," he said. "Even my kids are better at this science stuff. So why am I wasting time when I could be making money instead of piling up debt and being grumpy?"



Heads nodded.  It's a challenge to focus on faraway goals. Especially, with bills to be paid.

A union wage is enticing. Meanwhile, the shipbuilding industry in China, for one, is growing. Here in the U.S., nursing and most health care industry work can't be exported. What's more, the demand for nurses is expected to continue growing for the next decade. Career choices can be a crap shoot. If your timing is off, the promising, high-demand industry can be in a slump when you graduate or not long afterward. Maybe you catch it just right, maybe you don't. These kids know that.

Thanks to the California State University system's affordable tuition, I never had to take out a student loan. Full-time tuition was around $100 per semester. Cal State tuition has risen to 50 times what I paid 35 years ago. Wages sure haven't increased that much. Despite a valiant attempt to turn an internship into a job (they couldn't get the money to hire me), I graduated jobless with no backup. Having rent and living expenses to bear was hard enough without a loan, which to me, seems like an 800-lb screeching monkey.  I worked two or three jobs at a time for four years until I got a foot in the door somewhere. Can't imagine jobless, burdened with debt and a bleak economic picture. Makes me feel differently at what I saw as tough luck back then.

CSU students have been protesting tuition hikes. I feel for them, yet I think, "What's the difference?" How many will get jobs upon graduation and how many will be consistently gainfully employed? I got my college education at low cost. By age 30, I was laid off. There went my education reimbursement for grad school. I had no debt. By cashing in my 401K, my husband and I were able to buy a home. We struggled for a few years, had a few good years and then struggled again. I expect the economy to run a similar course of ups and downs the rest of my life. So, those kids can protest the tuition now, but what good would a reduction do in the long run? There's a price to be paid for everything and there are no guarantees.

That piece of paper, my college diploma, has unlocked the door to most of the jobs I've held and has, in one way or another, been instrumental to the work I've done. Coming from a working-class family, my mother was proud of me going to college. Nonetheless, I hated, absolutely hated, college the first time around. It's no better this time. That said, one thing I know is that getting the piece of paper is not a waste of time, although it sometimes feels that way.

The median grade on last night's biology exam was a high D. And there I was, sitting squarely on the median. I did some figuring. If the next 2 exams are not as horrid, and my lab book is complete, I can end up with a C, possibly, a B. An instructor from another class (one in which I'm 3 points away from a perfect overall score) encouraged me to look at my education experience realistically and ease up on the perfectionist tendencies. She said is not necessary to get As in all classes.

Sigh.

For the next 7 weeks, can I de-stress and accept less than stellar marks rather than walk away in disappointment?

Myopia and the new global economy

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Back in the 1970s when I was attending college the first time, an old boyfriend, whose foray into the halls of higher education included TIG/MIG welding, sarcastically called me Mr. Peabody, after the 1960s near-sighted cartoon character. Mr. P, in case you don't recall, or weren't born yet, was a myopic, pedantic . . dog.

The implication, of course, was . . "Stop wasting your time on those books and pay attention to ME."  When this infant-in-adult-clothing announced, "Your future is very bleak, Sandy" near my graduation time, I ejected his unsympathetic, non-supportive sass out of the shared rental and my life.

Okay. Maybe I was a little like "Mr. Peabody." Yet rather than near-sighted, by some psychological quirk, I was farsighted. I always knew that lifelong learning was important. So, following a four-year break after earning  my bachelor's degree, I started taking some courses at CSULB. It didn't click. Several years later, I was accepted into the Educational Psychology/Instructional Technology graduate program at USC. One class at a time. Before I could finish what was actually a short, doable MSEd program, I was laid off. The job loss also meant the loss of education reimbursement, which, at the time, seemed to be my only way of getting the degree.

Shortly thereafter, I came to Ohio, taking some time off working to reunite with my mother, who was getting on in age. Here and there, I took a course at Lakeland or Cleveland State to keep up my computer skills. Other than that, I was a full time housewife. At the same time the marriage was ending in the early 2000s, economic change was turning into heavy weather.  My personal life was one major change after another, which left no time for classes, let alone catch my breath. I grabbed hold of a job opportunity and kept at it. When I was taking care of my dying mother, she told me I'd make a good nurse. The social workers, the Hospice nurses and home care staff agreed. What? Me?

It took 5 more years to rise far enough above the surface of personal and professional changes to gulp some air and decide to explore the health care field. Lo and behold, the promise of job growth, flexible working hours and geographic location. That brings me to the present plunge into classes to see if I have the aptitude. Well, here's the truth. I have to work extra hard. The biology class requires about 20 hours a week of study. That's a part-time job, right there, isn't it? Studying this hard is a challenge for which I was totally unprepared,  being accustomed to taking only courses that are easy for me. Performance anxiety hit early and hit hard. Maybe that's a good thing. It propelled me into a discipline of focused learning and engaging help in the form of a tutor. Performance anxiety caused me to miss 3 or 4 questions on the first biology test, but made me realize how to be a better test taker. On Tuesday, the tutor commented, "Of course, this course is going to be difficult - it's hard for everybody because it's different from the way we are used to thinking and looking at things." I had just slowly arrived at the conclusion that I was pushing myself pretty hard. I think I'm adjusting.

I got my eyes examined last week and need a stronger prescription for my astigmatic, myopic eyesight. Fortunately, my farsighted ability to envision the future hasn't really let me down. I quipped to a friend today, "Hey it's like this - I am going to school today for a job I will have in FIVE YEARS."

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It's All the Same . . or Is it?

Image by betsyweber via Flickr
Analogy is defined as a similarity between like features of two things, on which a comparison may be based.

What I recall from learning theory, which I studied at USC in the late 1980s, is that analogy is one of our primary ways of building knowledge. As Seth Godin says in one of his blog entries, ". . realize that analogies are your best friend." 

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During Biology classes, it doesn't take much for my mind to be off and riffing on all the analogies between organic molecules, cells and . . the world we live in. It's been awhile since I had the time to contemplate things like that. My mind was a virtual July 4th of synapses pondering these things when I was younger.

Most entertaining are those analogies drawn from what can be seen with the unaided eye because it's fun to look beyond mere appearances. Cell structure and functioning is akin to manufacturing - that's a popular analogy for the classroom. Social and organizational structures, interpersonal dynamics, buildings, cars, boats, planes - our inventions and the sense we make of the world around us - also are analogous to the apparently orderly scheme of things. But what if our grasp of appearances, what if that conceptual framework was determined to be  . . . elementary? If the basis of our ordinary concepts were essentially all wrong, or even mostly wrong, think how that would affect . . everything.

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Test of time

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First Biology test last night. Thankfully, a passing score.

What I learned:  Read the questions even more carefully. Sometimes the distractor is in the question. Follow hunches. If it feels wrong, it probably IS wrong. Missing four easy questions knocked me into a low B.

Considering my anxiety level, and the fact that I didn't feel solid with certain concepts, the score was good enough.

Good enough to show I'm actually learning something. Good enough to reveal where I need to spend more time. The half-hour spent with the tutor three hours before the test was definitely time well spent. After that, I figured there was no sense frantically paging through notes. Playing piano briefly two hours before the test helped the brain waves. I figured, either I know the material, or I don't.


The temperature was maybe 6 degrees last night. At least, the class is held at a place where parking is steps from the building. Back home, spent five hours completing the Medical Terminology assignment due tonight. Up until 3 a.m. The book I'm reading for pleasure, "When the Body Says No," by Gabor Mate, is due at the public library today. Inter-library loan so I can't renew. DRAT.

Sunshine yesterday and today. What more can I say?

Is it all just talk?

Image by /\ltus via Flickr

Communications museum

Tonight's speaker talked about the importance of communication, a key ability for working in the healthcare field. I left with a good feeling that the verbal and written skills I've honed over the years could be especially valuable in a new career that isn't just about communication.

Though medical writing has emerged more than once in my mind as a direction to explore, two considerations - working with people and not spending the entire day at a computer - are important to me.

Lately, I have been thinking that whatever next step I take, it's got to be into something I truly enjoy. Granted, I would enjoy it more if it pays really well. But the main thing is to quit doing work that is disagreeable on some level or another. Though I've been complaining like mad for the past week, today I began to feel the investment of time and money in these courses will have a positive return.
Image by seiuhealthcare775nw via Flickr
I'm just scratching the surface of career exploration. I've never been blessed with a passion for any one interest. I've also been pressed to find work, any work, most of my life. Tonight's speaker remarked that if we students are just going into healthcare because of the high demand and prospect of making good money, and it really doesn't suit our personalities, we are in for misery. I agree. But it's like anything - you don't really know what it's like until you are in it.

So, I keep talking to people in the healthcare field. Some are there because they once had passion (and now don't). Some are there because they truly love it. Others are making a paycheck. As I tap them for personal experiences, few want to be discouraging. I have to listen between the words. Ah. Communication. There it is. Again. This journey isn't just about finding a new career. It's about acknowledging who I am, honoring my values. For years, I contorted myself to fit into companies whose products, services, or cultures I found repulsive. Do I really want to do that again? I want to get beyond "the paycheck" to believing that, despite an uncertain economy, there will be something "just right" and if it pay well, great. It's not all just talk. It's a lot of thinking, too.

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Candlemas Day

Image by State Library of New South Wales collection via Flickr
In other areas of the country, the blizzard of 2011 is taking its toll. With the exception of Canton and parts of Cleveland, Northeast Ohio has escaped the predicted weather drama. So far.
 
The campus has been closed for the past two days. Not that I spent every hour of each day studying, but the gain of additional study time has been put to some use. It's also helped the input to settle a little further into my head.

Of the one quiz and two exams slated for this week, it's one down, two to go. The Health Sciences Careers class quiz was no problem. A hundred percent, there. Tomorrow night, given classes resume, there's the Biology test. On a scale of one to ten, my confidence level is currently at six. Need more work, there. The Medical Terminology test, which was to have been given tonight, can be taken at the campus testing center over the next two days. Having done the practice tests on the DVD and closing in on one-hundred percent there, my confidence level is up.

Hard to believe this is only the third week of class. It seems longer than that. I don't even want to think how many more weeks there are to go. I'd rather contemplate an early spring, as unscientific as prediction by groundhog may be. Punxsutawny Phil did NOT see his shadow today. 

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Watch (learning) curves

Image by Mira (on the wall) via FlickrI signed up for a tutor for the biology class. When I read the same paragraph in the textbook repeatedly, the time has come.

The tutoring starts next week. Costs me nothing - it's a service of the college. I love free stuff.


Reaching out for a helping hand is not something I take lightly. In order to do that, I have to have exhausted my own resources and admit something is not clicking.




Biology lab was fun tonight. The four of us were really "on" and we finished quickly. Nice when things go smoothly and there's camaraderie.


Long day. Tired.

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Homework

Image by ConnectIrmeli via FlickrToday, my back-to-school venture feels like a wrong-sized coat. Everything about it is annoying. The bureaucracy. The school game. The investment of time with no weekly paycheck.


At 3 p.m. I look at the course schedule for Medical Terminology. It's in calendar format. I have looked at it more than once and things just didn't register. I have suspected there was something was due today, but what? What I'm looking for, and don't see, is each requirement in language I understand. It says homework is to be collected next Wednesday. Fine. But it says it's "due" tonight. What is the difference?

Well, it's like this. There are learning objectives that somebody came up with that entail repetition - the acts of reading, then re-reading, writing answers to review questions, and then regurgitating said answers on quizzes and exams. My own brand of reinforcement is different. Mine is flipping to the review questions while I read,  and working them out in my head, associating them with what I might already know, or what's in the illustrations or diagrams or text boxes in the book. Normally, I would go through again and type out the answers to the review questions.

But we are supposed to read the chapters and write the answers in the book before each class. Well, frankly, my handwriting is nearly illegible, even to me. I hate looking at it anymore. If I had my druthers, which yes, I know - I don't because I am paying the educators for their druthers - I'd leave the book pristine. I'd type pages that would be nice, neat, legible and easy to review and impressive enough to hand in.

But that is NOT what we're doing here. And, never mind I have the answers. In fact, my mouth is one of the happiest flappers in the class every time the instructor queries us.

In short. I didn't do my homework.

Well, I mean, I didn't complete my homework. The instructor checks to see who's done it and who hasn't. She gives a mock gasp when she sees most my pages are empty. Somehow, this feels like high school. NO, grade school. She's kindhearted. It's not like I'm mad at her, but this system seems weird to me. There are plenty of others who didn't do the homework. Who knows why. The instructor gives us a friendly warning and resumes her lecture and drills. The homework is worth points. Points are worth grades. I want an "A," natch.

On the drive home, a chilling thought occurs to me. These courses are designed to prepare for professions where you follow directions and make few decisions of your own. Good reason for that. You could accidentally kill or maim somebody.  I start getting anxious again. I've spent a lifetime learning to be ultra-self reliant and to think (often creatively) on my feet  -- just to survive. Am I in the right place? Okay. Okay. Maybe this is just an adjustment period and I'll adapt, toe the line, ultimately get the piece of paper and this phase will be long forgotten.  I've somehow felt swept along into this back-to-school current. Trust. Gotta trust. There is a reason for being where I am. Someplace, there is room for strength, divergent thinking, innovation.

Deep breath. Exhale.

Now I remember. The purpose of this first semester is exploration.

There is other homework for me to do, obviously.

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Up and atom

Image via WikipediaMy mood brightened this evening following a long day of mixed results and responses to various  matters.

At three o' clock I felt anxious and overwhelmed. My day had been devoured by non-school business. I was considering dropping the biology class, frustrated by how long it takes to read the books and do the review questions. "Where the Hell am I going to fit income-producing activity (otherwise known as "work.") into this?"  I ask aloud.

An hour later, disappointment over my failure to read tonight's assigned chapter is superseded by determination nipping my heels. I pick up my pride, my coat and my bag and head out the door. Arriving on campus a half-hour early tests an idea I had. Finishing up the reading steps from the classroom instead of doing it at home and then driving like a maniac is far more relaxing. The idea worked.

Chapter 2 covers atoms, molecules, elements and their behavior. Tom, the instructor, gave a quick run-through on the topic to the twenty or so pairs of glazed eyes staring back at him. No, we don't have to become atomic scientists. This atomic stuff will all make sense when he relates it to cellular biology next week. That's what he promises us.

Lab time. Complete the last exercise of Thursday's lab. The exercise centers on measuring the volume of a test tube. At first, the memory of last week's methodology for calculating mass - using a ruler - persists.  Somebody grabs a ruler from the tray. I exclaim that there was no difference between this inquiry and using measuring cups in the kitchen. Lightbulbs go on. We're back in business.

Everything worked out so well that we finished ahead of most the other groups. Then, all four of us thought we heard the instructor say to do the next exercise, so we dove into it. But we couldn't concentrate because the group next to us was discussing their back to school stories. I was more interested in hearing the back to school stories than doing the assignment. Then, we realized we weren't supposed to do the exercise until after another lecture. Oh, well. Such overachievers.

I listened to two men in their mid- to -late twenties discussing being bounced out of their careers. They were choosing nursing as a second career. Two gals, near the same age, chimed in with their stories.

So it comes to this. What a boon for the education business. Two of the kids hadn't even paid off their school loans from their first bachelor's degrees. They all agreed that job prospects in the health sciences field look very good. Cognizant that the health science courses are filled within the first 30 minutes of registration, I did some math in my head.  I wonder, just how many millions of us graduating from these programs will be looking for jobs at the same time. . .

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Driving the speed limit for the first time in weeks.

All I could think of was food, all the way home.

Ready. Or, not.

Image via WikipediaI don't watch television, but I hear that a new genre of reality show about hoarders is becoming popular.

Geez. "Real Simple" on the rack at the check out stand and t.v. shows documenting the prevalence of people with too many things. High unemployment in a slow-to-recover economic recession and footage showing over-consumption. Constant change and increasing pace of life that would seem to preclude extraneous baggage (of any sort) and basements filled with mountains of stuff.

Hmnmm. What does that say about this era?

I know. Most people watching hoarder shows probably don't attach any sociological or political significance to the behavior. Fine. Then on a very practical level, I say there are good reasons for hanging onto stuff. Somewhere in the subconscious mind, a future need has been marked. What I'm rationalizing here is my own style of hoarding. But I don't call it hoarding. I call it stocking up, being prepared.

Take, for example, my several large boxes of office supplies. For years, September back-to-school sales drew me like an ant to honey. I would purchase all sorts of  writing and highlighting implements, notebooks of various sizes, tacks, tape, glitter, glue, scissors, binder clips, paper clips (oooooh - love the GOLD ones!), clipboards, staplers, staple removers, stamps, ink, erasers, rulers, tabs, folders, portfolios, envelopes, carbon paper (yes!), and so on. I even have a sporty little Dyno label maker and colored tapes to go with it.

So, when I began preparing for my education venture, I lugged out the boxes and went "shopping" in the privacy of my own home. Having what I need when I need it (some purchased at 1995 prices, yet) is quite satisfying. Sure, more than once I forgot the exact contents of the boxes. Sure, my stash might be considered a hoard. You know what, though? What those boxes have consumed in floor space is nothing compared to what they save me in fuel and time. At 2011 prices.

Therefore,

I'm not a hoarder.

I'm ready.

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Thursday on ice

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Rhinitis phlegm micro-photo with gas bubbles.

I have diagnosed myself with rhinitis. Stuffy nose. Headache. Sneezing. Coughing. I'll live. Nonetheless, I've been in a crappy mood all day. Roads were crappy. Class was crappy. I was in no mood for interaction with other humans, but we had our first biology lab tonight and it's worth ten points. Three kids got stuck with my congested snorting and clumsy attempts to calculate metric conversions.

At one point, Carrie grabbed the ruler out of my hand saying I was looking at it upside down or backwards or something. She then realized she was looking at it wrong and that my stated measurement was actually correct. Like I said, I've been in a crappy mood all day. I must have given her some kind of dirty look. She backed down. We resumed the measurements.  Performance anxiety affects different people differently.

One bright note. Yellow, as a matter of fact. I used a liquid solution on the car windshield to make it easier to scrape the ice, an activity which took a good 10-15 minutes after class. Thanks to foresight, I had packed this wondrous spray in the car just yesterday. Looks like urine. Melts ice and snow like urine. Probably has alcohol in it. Maybe Coors. Huh. They always said Coors was. . oh, never mind.

There. Done for the week. Back in my nest. Tomorrow is another day.

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Once upon a time I lived where palm trees grew. 

Answers are everywhere

Image via WikipediaFirst session of Medical Terminology tonight.

Back in December, when the brilliant idea to go back to college turned into action, I had ordered the big, fat Medical Terminology textbook from Amazon.com.
When it arrived, I had begun paging through immediately, poring over pictures and noting how the information was organized. Then the tome moved to several locations in the house before I picked it up again after the holidays.

I mowed down three chapters in a week. This is wordplay to me. Dissect the terms by suffix first, then the root, then the prefix.  I went through the exercises in the book and on the CD. I was feeling like a hot shot. I didn't want to write in the book. Wanted to keep it clean so each time I studied, I'd still be challenged.

Uh-uh. The instructor wants us to turn those pages in to her. If you do it carefully, she tells us, you can separate the sections from the spine.

Guess I'm going to get even more practice.

The instructor handed out copies of exercises printed on festive green paper.  At the end of class one student asked what the last two pages were for. Evidently the answer pages were copied along with the the exercises! The instructor accepted the goof with a laugh. I wondered out loud why the morning class hadn't noticed it.

Roads were crappy tonight.

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First day (night) of class

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Typical media weather drama - "Severe Weather Alert - Icy Road Conditions."

Tuesday, January 18, 2011 at 5:15 p.m., I-90 was fine. It was salted and okay on the way home at 9 p.m.

I digress.

Dusk. Interior shot. Camera follows main character (me) as she enters the off-campus building. The only section of Health Sciences Biology that was open when I registered is held 20 miles from home. At night.

With close to $200 in shrink-wrapped Biology books in hand, I sit down at the back of the room. Look around. A wide range of ages. Yeah. It's cool. I'm cool. I'm wearing Billibong.

But hey, what am I DOING in a room that is outfitted as a science lab?

This is different. Suddenly I realize, I'M different. Who I always was, but now also who I wasn't.

I am listening to the instructor's overview of the syllabus. He broadly discusses what we will be covering and shows us this online resource called "Blackboard" where we can track our grades, find resources and more. He tries to ease any performance anxiety with assurances that we're all starting out with the same number of points. Show up for lab and participate - an automatic 10 points. Exams - 50 points. Do the reading and follow the yellow highlighting in his PowerPoint slides and you can keep most of those points. Turn in a completed lab book at the end of the course - more points.

He's enthusiastic.

My mind wanders in and out of present time as he discusses blood typing of bobcats to trap poachers, trillium-munching white-tailed deer, the gene that causes Tay Sachs, recent additions to the periodic table of elements. Science is changing all the time, he says.

He's got my interest. Some of this stuff looks familiar. Whatever isn't, he'll knit it together with what I do know.

Ok. I can do this.

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