No Regrets...Well, Almost

Vol 2 No 23

This week's blog comes to us from one Will Maskrey, a student graduating with an AS in Business Administration this semester.  He is also the President of Student Corporation and someone I will most definitely miss once he leaves FLCC to find his way in the world.  As guest blogger, he wanted to share some of his thoughts about his experiences at the college and, specifically, an Honors class he took last semester.

No Regrets…well almost.

The year was 2016. A warm breeze cooled the asphalt that August evening as I walked to my car at the end of the work day. The typical Friday feeling of freedom and relief were painfully absent as a sigh escaped. I paused to think about everything that was ending, and what was dawning on the horizon. I never once questioned the decision to leave the stability of full time employment, and finally do something I had long put off: I was returning to college to finish my education. I was heading to Finger Lakes Community College the following Monday, and I would need the weekend to prepare for this major alteration in my life. The words to adequately describe the two years, since that day I stood in the sun and questioned my life altering decision, escape me incessantly. As I think over the multitude of experiences and choices that I have made in my time here, I can say with great confidence that I have no regrets… well almost.

This past fall I took my first Honors class, The Development of Modern Horror taught by Dr. Trista Merrill. There are so many things that made this class arguably the most important of my academic career. I could spend an entire blog highlighting the genius of the unparalleled Dr. Merrill, however most of you reading this are already aware of this fact. As great as she is, my classmates played the biggest role in what made this class the highlight of my week. Some would say that gathering a random group of people, that would be comfortable and open enough to talk about horror and fear, is miraculous feat. I agree, but to have a group of strangers trust each other enough to do this on day one of the class, that is something impossible to recreate.

The respect for each individual opinion, coupled with the care each took to ensure the safety and well-being of their neighbor is something rare in most traditional classes. I have not seen or felt this level of oneness in any of my other classes. This is what I miss about not being in an Honors class this semester. I want to be very clear that I am talking about something far beyond the physical safety I feel every day when I walk through the doors of FLCC. I am referring to a freedom to explore and question, to challenge and, in a way, be rewarded through an expansion of personal perspective. There are a few rare classes that seem to fit this model but fall incredibly short of what an Honors class achieves.

As the homestretch approaches and my time at Finger Lakes Community College is ending, one cannot help to reflect on what has been. It has been a tremendous experience with opportunities that I could not have fathomed. The only thing I would change, the only real regret that will remain when I leave here is the fact that I did not take full advantage of Honors Studies. The one Honors class I did take, that special group of people that made everything better, can never be forgotten. I owe all of them a great debt, more than they may realize. There are other groups and people that have added to my being here, but my time in Modern Horror will hold a special, permanent place in my memory.

Honors is so much more than a unique curriculum or a special class structure led by terrific faculty. It is a special journey shared only by those who are willing to stare into the vastness of the unknown and be willing to trust the person next to them as everyone jumps. The fear that can encompass making mistakes can always creep up on us during those unexpected moments. Now that I have taken an Honors Studies class, I have more people in my life to remind me of my goodness. We all could use more people to remind us of that. Honors is the place to meet the best of those people for your journey, just make sure that you don’t miss out like I almost did.

I can wholeheartedly say that I am a better human being today because of my experiences in Honors Studies. I wish more classes were like the Development of Modern Horror class I took, but if that were the case these classes might not be as life-altering. More students, and maybe more faculty as well, need to be aware of the impact Honors Studies can have on the college experience of a student.  I almost missed out on those experiences and that is why I have no regrets about my time here in Honors Studies.

Grab Your Things....

Vol 2 No 7

The following is a transcript of the words I used to open the Honors Studies Fall 2017 Dinner.  I hope you will enjoy these words....and perhaps next semester, you will join us.

Robert Frost once said that “Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in.” Perhaps related to this is a song that has been stuck in my head for over a week now. The title or the rest of the song isn’t terribly important because it’s one line and one line only: “grab your things I’ve come to take you home…”

With those two quotes, I welcome you to the fall 2017 Honors Studies dinner.

Frost’s quote is a particularly valid one when we look at the admissions policies of a community college. We are an open admission institution, which means if students come here (and fill out the necessary paperwork), then we let them come. As a result, we get a wide range of students here from all walks of life with experiences that run the gamut from relatively uneventful to full of chaos and change. My colleagues will nod their heads when I say that as a faculty member, I’ve heard some stories that have broken my heart over the years. For every story of success, there seems to be a companion story of tremendous struggle and overcoming the odds. Paired with that, however, is the realization that what students find at FLCC, in general, is a place to belong and that belongingness is something they grow to appreciate more and more the longer they are here. The same is true for the faculty experience. I have found my 13 plus years here to be full of support and encouragement from my peers for myself and for our students. From senior faculty (of which I am now counted) when I first began here to the newer faculty who are keen to get involved in any initiative that centers on students, this truly is a community.

Honors Studies is no different and, like so many aspects of the Honors experience, it seems that we are an intensified version of what is found in the community of this college as a whole. My anecdotal experience is that those in Honors feel a little deeper, experience a little more profoundly, and are impacted a little more keenly as a whole than the entirety of the college around them. As a result, some of them come to us with the most heart-wrenching stories.

I recently asked two sets of Honors students to name one thing that scares them and the list was not what I expected. In those quick notes written in a manila folder, I learned that not only did they have powerful backgrounds and stories, but they were trusting enough to tell me what they feared. I expected to read things like spiders, or the dark, or confined spaces, or horror movies, or public speaking, and there were some of those, of course. What I did not expect to read was how many students were afraid of losing someone they loved or feared loneliness and solitude. I read about students being afraid of life, of oblivion, of death, of failure, of people, and of emotional turmoil. And the most popular answer among them all was that students were simply afraid of the future. This is a statement of our times, I think, and something many of us are feeling.

In other contexts, I’ve heard so many students in Honors tell stories of domestic violence, abuse, drug addiction, bullying, anxiety, depression, and unstable families. My heart breaks every time. There’s more that I could say, but I do not intend this talk to be a negative or troubling one…because all of the things I just recounted I tell you for only one reason, and that is to talk about the flip side of that. Because by whatever path those students took to arrive at this place where they tell me their dark stories, the point is that they have found a place to tell them. They have found belonging.

The way students talk about their Honors classes is as heart-warming as those other stories are heart-wrenching. Last year, a student took courage from class discussions to email Dr. Nye about her thoughts regarding the national climate following the election. Why? Because she “left these classes feeling closer to my professors and to my peers.” I had a black student stop after class just a couple weeks ago to thank me for talking about race issues in class because when she’d tried to do so elsewhere, she’d been silenced. When I asked a transgender student to tell me which pronoun he preferred, he told me that he has found more acceptance and tolerance here than he has in his own family. I’ve seen students in tears for the sole reason that we had reached the end of the semester and that chapter of their academic journey was ending. I once had a group of current Honors students pool their resources and send a box of clothing, gift cards, toys, and art supplies to a former Honors student they didn’t even know because she was a single mom who had fallen on hard times. I could go on and on from the little gestures of students supporting students and even when they reach out to me when they know I’m struggling with something myself. As much as curiosity is the brain of Honors; this is its heart.

My colleagues will attest that while we may see this in other classes as well, we almost always see it in our Honors classes. Honors students support each other and form friendships; they challenge each other and respect each other; they debate and discuss and celebrate intellectual curiosity even as they share a laugh and tease one another. They are eager to share their excitement about the work they are doing and they are quick to ask one another for input and guidance if they are stuck or at a loss. I’ve seen hugs and outreach on a level that I haven’t seen anywhere else. I can think of no other more powerful word to use than family; and anyone who has ever heard me talk about my own family will know that this is not a word I use lightly. And so, my friends, as we share a meal together in celebration of Honors, let us remember everything that it stands for. Honors is reflection, analytical inquiry, and intellectual curiosity, but it is also so many things that we do not assess as a college and cannot measure. It is where you belong. And so, my friends, grab your things….and welcome home.

The Heart of Honors

Vol 1., No. 9

We live in a world that seems more and more contentious and intolerant if all the negative stories that cross our paths are to be believed.  I’m not sure about the world as a whole, but I know that there are points of light no matter where you go and FLCC is no different.  November is upon us, and it often brings with it a nod towards things about which we are thankful.  I’m thankful for the moments I observe as a professor; moments that are perhaps far more telling than perhaps the people involved even realize.  So, sit back and meander through an eighty minute class of mine wherein I witnessed four vignettes of student interaction that have stuck with me.  There are more, but I really like these four and I think they say a lot about the students involved and the kind of environment classes can create.  I doubt I need to say that it was an Honors course, but it was. This is not to say that I don’t think these kinds of stories exist all across our campus and beyond, because I believe they do.  In my experience, however, it is in the Honors classrooms where I see these heartwarming stories more often.

“Pardon”

In a moment of waiting for some as others finished up in-class work, one student stood up to draw on the board.  She went to caption her illustration and asked her classmates how to spell a word.  One said, “really?!” in a sort of disbelieving way and she immediately turned around and said, “Hey, I have dyslexia, shut up.”  These last two words were said in a congenial sort of way and without any malice.  The first student asked if she really was and when she told him she was, he said sincerely, “I didn’t know, pardon” and then proceeded to goofily (and obviously) misspell the word for her.  This moment struck me for several reasons. First – a student with documented learning disabilities was enrolled in a 200-level English Honors class.  Second – she was comfortable enough with her classmates to admit this without embarrassment or apology.  Third – her classmate immediately apologized and then carried on as if she were just another classmate.  Because she was.

“I tried”

Another student in the class has near-crippling anxiety when it comes to speaking in class and especially when presenting.  She never refuses to do it, but it is occasionally very painful to watch her suffer, near tears, with whatever is asked of her.  On this day, she had to describe a classmate’s project to the rest of the class, who could clearly tell she was struggling.  Several students offered suggestions – including to put on sunglasses.  She did this, but then had to take them off because they were too dark for her to see what she was reading.  The student who made the suggestion said he tried, and he sounded sincerely disappointed that it didn’t work.  With a few more words of encouragement, they all then listened as she spoke in her shaky voice which kept giving out.  When she was done, there were several nods and smiles of support, and then the class just carried on, leaving her to settle and regain her calm as if that were the most normal thing in the world.  Because it is.

“Third person”

A third student in that same class is transgendered and just this semester, he came out as such.  It has been an adjustment for those who know him, of course, and a terrifying journey for him as well.  I don’t think everyone in the class knows yet, because it generally isn’t the kind of thing that you announce in a classroom setting.  There are some who know, however, and so a casual comment took on a much more meaningful depth when I put him in a group with another male of the same name.  There were comments about them being ‘Name Squared’ and whatnot, but when the other student was commenting on his classmate’s project, someone in the class piped up and said ‘You sound like you’re talking in the third person’ and that was just such a casual and flippant sort of comment until you realized what it actually entailed.  Students accepted their classmate who was transitioning and treating the flipped pronoun as if it were no big deal.  Because it shouldn’t be.

“Make it brighter”

The last vignette involves me.  I had a rough couple of hours before I headed into class that day and, had I not cancelled the class the week before for a personal reason, I probably would have cancelled it that day.  So, I walked in, settled into the room and someone asked me how I was.  For whatever reason, I decided to tell them I’d have a rough day.  Without missing a beat, one of the students said, “Well, let’s see if we can make it a little brighter for you, doctor.”  As if it were no big deal.

But it was.  Time and time again, students in Honors classes form a bond with one another and with their instructor.  Not that they pry or force intimacy where there is none, but I’m sure my fellow Honors faculty will agree with me when I say there is an Honors community that is unlike any other kind of class I’m used to teaching.  Except when I model them on my Honors courses.  There’s something about the Honors approach – the curiosity, the enthusiasm, the passion – that encourages students to let down some of their guard, to acknowledge and work with and around difference, to support and encourage each other, to raise each other up and to create a real learning environment.   They celebrate one another and value one another and, in turn, are valued themselves.  Not as just another face in just another classroom, but as fellow traveler on an intellectual journey. 

It is one of the most satisfying and amazing observations to make as an instructor, because I am only one small part of a much larger being born of synergy and shared experience, and a genuine love of learning.

That…is Honors.

“We travel, some of us forever, to seek other places, other lives, other souls” – Anais Nin