As I lay graduating ...
F ive years ago, I graduated from
high school and headed to Idaho
to attend college. My entire life,
up to that point had been lived in states
that either bordered Canada or else
bordered states that bordered Canada.
Never in my wildest yankee dreams
had I planned to live in Texas. Never in
my wildest yankee dreams had I
planned to even visit Texas.
To be honest, I hadn’t planned to come
closer than I had to.
Places like Houston and San Antonio were just words I
read in newspapers; Dallas, of course, was the location of that
goofy TV show and Austin was a name I memorized in the
sixth grade in the “Capitols of our of states” unit.
I didn’t even know Texas A&M University existed until a
month before I applied. That still shocks some people — folks
who are convinced that A&M’s name is sung from the hilltops
everywhere. Maybe it should be, maybe it shouldn’t be, but
certainly no one sung it ’round my neighborhood.
Fightin’ Texas Aggie what?
Spring nights in Idaho in the semester preceding my
transfer to A&M were spent walking with my boyfriend, a
Houstonian, learning the War Hymn, various yells and the
art of ‘humping it.’
Sure, it was frightening to think of moving to a place that
“humped it,” but nonetheless I was thrilled at the prospects
of the Lone Star state. It seemed an adventure.
It was good to have few expectations or preconceptions of
A&M as baggage when I arrived. No old Ags in my family
tried to ‘convince’ me to choose Aggieland. No older siblings
had paved the way.
No one I knew knew a thing about this pocket of the world.
It was just a place on a map until I came and saw and drove
up that imposing corridor that connects Texas Ave. and the
Systems administration building.
“What are you doing?” my friends cried when I first made
plans to come to Texas. Who just packs up and heads south?
“There goes Erin on some half-baked dream. She’ll be back
though, sure of it,” they figured. Some were sure I would re
turn, and at first, I was pretty sure too. Despite my lack of
baggage, A&M was different than anything I had expected.
Almost too much for a scared yankee.
It was culture shock, dramatic and painful, when I stepped
off the plane. The y’alls took some getting used to, but I
quickly picked up that useful contraction.
The southern demonstrativeness was new, however;
northerners, especially in the Great Lakes area, are a sto
ic, strong, pioneer stock bunch. We just don’t walk around
saying “Howdy.”
And the weather. My parents had to
send money to revamp my wardrobe shortly
after I moved here.
I owned just a few short sleeve shirts,
enough to make it through a Minnesota sum
mer, but nowhere near enough to make it
through even the first week of April in Texas.
I was underprepared in more ways than one.
Texas was like a whole different country,
just as the ad says. More like a different planet
actually. I didn’t see how I fit in at first either.
The initial uncertainty, however, and the confusion
made it all the more sweet when I realized that I belonged
at A&M. Gradually I grew to love being a ‘tourist’ in the
Republic of Texas.
I slowly but surely acclimated to this crazy place, emotional
ly, physically, mentally and everything else.
It was after my first year here, during the summer after I
decided not to return, that I started waxing nostalgic over
Aggieland. Started yearning for the sound of whoops and the
sight of cadets. It had rubbed off.
I wanted to say “Howdy.” I wanted to gig ’em.
Getting my Aggie ring ... what did it mean? Not that I had
finally received my 95 hours — because I had enough hours
to get a ring for a year before I placed my order — but that I
had committed to a school. I had decided to stay. I had real
ized that this place was my home. I had chosen it as such.
I was an Aggie.
Football seasons. Crying over our loss to Oklahoma in 1993,
and marveling that I cared so much. My first encounter with
Reveille, and all of our subsequent meetings. Ring dance.
Writing for The Batt. Hanging out at the Zip’n across from
campus. The Big Event. The big moving event. The big long
distance bill event. The big all-nighter event. The big road
trip to LSU event. The big senioritis event.
The big undergraduate event.
All of that over now.
But wait. I just arrived, it seems. Is it really me, this per
son with a degree just inches from her hand? Is this me, the
one who will be somebody’s English teacher in a semester?
I’m not ready, not yet. Yeah, I know, but five years just
doesn’t seem enough. We all say it, but it isn’t any less true.
Leaving isn’t easy. (Making it through the graduation snooze
fest isn’t easy either, just for the record.)
And then come the goodbyes. The tears, the bittersweet
smile and the leap from the safety of undegraduate life into
something bigger, but maybe not so different.
With a longing gaze backward, I hold my breath and step
off into the unknown.
Erin Hill is a senior English major
Erin
Hill
Asst. Opinion
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Teachers, students should
make final week productive
A s I walked out of
Room 225
Zachry Tuesday
morning at 6:00 a.m.
and was greeted with
a beautiful sunrise, I
wondered what on
earth I was doing. I
had two months to
work on a project that
was due in four hours, but the majori
ty of the work was yet to be completed
as of Monday afternoon.
There I was, participating in the
great college tradition known as
“pulling the all-nighter.”
The computer lab was still packed
with seniors working on their plant de
sign projects, and many underclassmen
were finishing up homework assignments
and final reports for semester projects.
Many of us will face some sleepless
nights these last few weeks of school
to finish papers and projects and to
study for finals.
Dead week is designed to avoid this
situation from happening the same
week that finals start. While we only
have three class days during the last
week of school, we often must complete
homework, projects, papers and tests
during this time — all in addition to
preparing for finals.
This scenario presents an unreason
able situation for many students. We
must complete a month’s worth of work
in a couple of days.
Of course it is largely our own fault.
We could have planned ahead to avoid
cramming it all at the end. We could
have finished those papers and projects
last week to leave this one open to con
centrate solely on finals.
F*rofessors often do not observe dead
week, making everything due right be
fore the final. Knowing student’s propen
sity for waiting until the last minute,
however, they should do us a favor and
make everything due at least a full week
before final, unless the paper or project is
assigned instead of an exam.
Granted, many major projects were
probably due last week. Due dates were
extended as a result of students pleas to
have a few more days, one more weekend.
FVofessors can help us by not granti
ng these extensions. We are going to
wait until the last minute no matter
when it is due, so go ahead and force us
to pull the all nighters well in advance
of finals. This way, we can be somewhat
awake when exams roll around.
The administration
can help us by strictly
enforcing the original
intent of dead week.
No tests should be
given. No homework,
papers, presentations or
projects — with the ex
ception of assignments
that replace scheduled
final exams — should be due.
Of course, we can help ourselves by
planning ahead and managing our time
to avoid those 2-hour-a-night naps.
One solution that has been proposed is
an extended reading period. Our reading
day represents the shortest dead time of
any university in the nation.
However, a longer reading period
would not solve our problems. At least in
my case, a few days completely free
would result in a few days of sleeping
late and unproductive efforts at studying.
The current system of half a week of
class, one reading day, one day of finals,
the weekend then three more days of
exams is a good system that works —
provided that no that no tests or papers
are due during that same period.
The final three days of class should
be devoted entirely to review. No new
material which we are responsible for
on the final should be presented.
This way, we would not have to
scramble to cram new material in a
couple of days in addition to reviewing
material from the beginning of the se
mester for those dreaded comprehen
sive exams.
If professors do not observe dead
week, and the administration does not
enforce dead week regulations, then
perhaps a longer reading period is the
best solution.
However, a few class days of review
and a short reading period of no more
than one or two days would better serve
the needs of the students.
The University has no responsibili
ty to make it easier on us. Professors
make the rules, and we must follow
them. Following the above guidelines,
however, represents a mutually bene
ficial situation for both teachers and
students.
Students have more time to study;
teachers have more time to grade.
And we should all get a little more
sleep.
Him Pawlikowski is a junior
chemical engineering major
Call
Aggie Bucks not the only
medium of A&M currency
In response to many letters, articles and com
motion about Aggie Bucks being expanded off cam
pus, I have a few things to point out.
Many moons ago there was a thing called mon
ey, sometimes referred to as monetary currency, or
medium of exchange. Money was slowly replaced
by checks and credit cards.
It is rumored that some actual Federal Reserve
Notes still exist to this very day. Aggie Bucks
seems to make many people believe that this is not
true, that the Federal Reserve Note is no longer
useful, and that moeny cannot buy things any
more.
I remember as Drew Diener did, that Texas Ag
gie Bookstore owner, John Raney was quoted as
saying, “the only concern that the University has
expressed to local businesses is that alcohol could
not be purchased.”
I also remember this same man saying some
thing to the effect that students could not pur
chase items in his bookstore.
Have I gone absolutely mad and crazy, or can
you still use cash at the Texas Aggie Bookstore,
that you can still write checks at the Texas Aggie
Bookstore, that you can still charge at the Texas
Aggie Bookstore? I think we may have lost sight of
the fact that Aggie Bucks is not the sole medium of
exchange, and this does not, in any way, create a
monopoly.
Not only that, but to my knowledge, the bill
going through the Senate says something to the
effect of: Off campus businesses may use and in
corporate the Aggie Buck debit card system for
purchases to be made only for items or services
that the University provides or any reasonably
similar items or services. Would someone please
write me and tell me where on campus you can
legally purchase alcohol?
That’s right, you can’t. That is the real reason be
hind the mysterious “don’t put alcohol on Aggie
Bucks” thing. It doesn’t just apply to alcohol. It ap
plies to anything that the University does not sell, or
anything reasonably similar.
According to the rules of Drew Diener, I should
be allowed to purchase a car at Fred Brown’s using
my Aggie Bucks, or I should be allowed to rent a
truck from UHAUL with my Aggie Bucks. I should
also be allowed to buy a shotgun and ammunition
with Aggie Bucks. This may all seem pretty silly,
but it is no sillier than whining about not knowing
how to use a Federal Reserve Notes to buy any
thing that Aggie Bucks can’t buy, and even when
things that Aggie Bucks can buy.
Michael Davis
Class of ’98
Too many years at A&M
makes school boring
Finals are approaching, and the shadow of
darkness is hovering near. To do or to die; we do
not have a choice for either one — all that is left is
to finish the unnamable. Yes, you know what I am
talking about — finish reading that 300-page text
book (including problems sessions on each chap
ter), write a 50-page theme paper with full foot
notes for every credit hour you are taking and
learn ESP in two weeks so you can copy the test
answers from the smartest kid in class telekineti
cally.
I am what this University made of me — a hor
rible, insecure mess who does not know whether to
tie his shoe laces in a knot to avoid tying them
again or leave the shoe laces to flow on the sides.
The only bit of knowledge that I am comfortable in
acknowledging that this higher education has giv
en me that squirrels do not like blindfolds when
they are walking on a tight rope, and since hell did
not freeze over when I was going into a test ill-
prepared, it never will. Therefore, not counting on
hell freezing over, I, like other upcoming gradu
ates, am forced to get a real job. And I am scared
more than that time a tall green dude climbed
through my window while I was lying in bed and
tried to bite me in the neck — but it turned out to
be my girlfriend without make-up, scary, huh?
On second thought, I am looking forward to the
new challenge, even after seven consecutive years
at A&M — including summers — this school thing
is becoming a bore.
Claude E. Wilkinson
Class of ’95
Christians should be judged
by their acts, not claims
This letter is written in response to David Tay
lor’s column on April 27.
Aggies, do not be deceived. Hitler and those in
volved with the killings in the Holocaust were dis
playing their utter contempt for God by attempt
ing to exterminate the Jewish nation — God’s cho
sen people — from the earth and will surely feel
His wrath.
A Christian, contrary to what Taylor inferred, is
not someone who was raised in a Christian home
or simply claims to be one.
A true Christian is one who has put their faith
in Christ’s blood that was shed on the cross for the
forgiveness of sin and through him is a new per
son, living their life for the Lord.
Taylor claimed that Jews shouting “Crucify
him!” might promote hostile feelings towards Jew
ish people.
I on the other hand, would like to suggest the
opposite—that through an understanding of God’s
plan of salvation for man, Christians will undoubt
edly learn to appreciate the actions the Jew took.
Furthermore, without the crucifixion of Jesus
no blood would have been shed, and atonement
for sin would not be possible.
Instead, he paid the price for our sin and was
resurrected to demonstrate his love for us, and
by accepting him, we have the assurance of
eternal life.
Bryan Curry
Class of ’97
Pride in A&M more important
than semester finals, grades
As the semester finally winds down and we all
start stressing about finals. I’d like to offer a few
suggestions to everyone who’s just ready to break:
While you’re walking to class tomorrow, say
“howdy” to at least three people you pass. It’s one
of our best traditions, and it’ll make your day, and
probably a few others, a little better.
Look around you.
Instead of racing blindly to your next class,
slow down a little and think about what a beauti
ful campus we have. Sit for a few minutes under
the spreading boughs of the Century Tree.
Walk around to the front of the Systems
Building, where the polo fields and the golf
course spread out past the flags fluttering in the
breeze.
Stand in the center of Simpson Drill Field
and picture Cadets, both past and present,
marching in Review.
Walk past Kyle Field.
If you listen hard enough, you can hear the
echoes of the Fightin’ Texas Aggie Band and the
roar of the Twelfth Man. Football season’s just a
few short months away Ags!
Now, take three deep breaths and relax. No
matter what the outcome of your finals, remember
that you are at the greatest University in the
world, and you are, and always will be, a Fightin’
Texas Aggie. Beat the hell outta final, Ags!
Gig’Em.
Beth Brown
Class of ’97