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Page 11 text:
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FALL tf J M B E R , 1948 A WORM ' S EYEVIEW OF ENROLLMENT Photos by Hank Brown The whole trick of enrollment was to get past an advisor. He helped you make out a schedule of classes, approved it, then all you had to do was file through a line and sign up for the classes he ap- proved. As explained in the university catalogue, it was all very simple. Actually it was a nightmare of disorder and perplexity. First you had to stand in line to find out who your advisor was. Then after at least an hour of waiting and pushing and elbow- ing maybe you ' d get to see the advisor only to be told that you ' d have to go find out if you had gotten any D ' s or F ' s the previous semester or if the dean would waive the pre-requisite of Recent Political Theory or if you had enough grade points to be a sophomore. That meant standing in lines and you simply couldn ' t be sure about the lines. For instance the one you stood in to find out who your advisor was. It used to form at the east door and run to the center of the gymnasium, but now it ran along the west wall. I told the guide about this and she said what difference did it make any- way and I said it made a lot of difference and why couldn ' t they work out a system and stick to it and save everybody a lot of confusion. Then she got nasty about the whole thing and said I was wrong in the first place that the line had always been along the west wall. I felt the university would have been a much nicer place if it hadn ' t bee n for enroll- ment. Finally, though, I found my- self in a chair beside the advisor whom I had been told to see. Having filled out all the little white cards except the spaces for two courses I felt a little proud of my efficiency as he turned and looked them over. He studied them for a few minutes. Here, he finally said, you forgot to fill in the space here. I looked. He was pointing at the blank space marked major. J im I didn ' t forget it. It ' s just that I don ' t have a major, I told him. Do you have to have one? Well, no, he admitted reluctantly, not until you ' re a junior. But don ' t you at least know what you want to be? He was about 40, I judged, with only a rim of thin hair around the back half of his head, wore tortoise shell glasses, and an expression of obvious concern for me on his face. I fejt it would hurt him to say that I didn ' t want to be anything, I had no idea what I wanted to major in and what you wanted to be seemed inseparably connected with that one point. I thought seriously before answering and finally told him I guessed I just wanted to be a college graduate at least that ' s all I had in mind for the present. He was visibly nonplused by the reply. But look, he said in a voice that sounded the slightest bit of impatience, who ' s sending you to college? I told him that the government was send- ' ng me to college and wanted to ask what difference that made but thought it would sound impertinent so I didn ' t. Then you ' ve never talked this matter over with anyone before, I take it, he said taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes in a tired way. I told him I hadn ' t. I Music Students Enroll
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Page 12 text:
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II THE J A Y H A V K E R Registration at F.ank Strong But you can see that it ' s different for me to advise you on courses when neither of us know what you want to major in, can ' t you? His question sounded reasonable enough and I nodded agreement. Well, then, don ' t you think it ' s about time you made some decision? The tone of his voice was clearly one of solicitation. I said it probably was and having committed myself on the matter, I was quick to ask him just how I should go about making the choice. Well, what subjects have you enjoyed most the past two semesters? I cupped my hand around my chin, closed my eyes and thought carefully. I was sure of one thing, I didn ' t like Biology. Spanish hadn ' t been bad, but it was tedious. The advisor was a busy man and rather than wait for a reply he picked The Engineers Enroll up my transcript and began to ex- amine the courses and grades. Hum, he said, grades aren ' t bad. C in Biology and Algebra, but the others are all B ' s. Wait a minute! I see you have an A in American History. Like history, do you? I couldn ' t remember that I especially liked history, it was just easier than the other courses. The advisor looked straight at me and put his heavy glasses back on. I could see he ' d made up his mind I was going to major in history. Look, he said, gathering up my transcript and all the little white cards, why don ' t you go over and talk to Professor George. Tell him you don ' t have a major and show him your transcript. It think he can help you. By now I was beginning to feel like there was something definitely wrong with people who didn ' t have majors. He ' s sitting over there under the history sign. I don ' t think you ' ll have to wait long, the advisor smilingly commented as he handed me the cards and the transcripts. I looked over toward the history sign. Sitting with but one student in front of him, was a small wizened man of about 60. I walked slowly across the gym stopping a few feet from him. He had a fountain pen in his left hand and was making quick, decisive gestures with it apparently explaining something to the student in front of him. His hair was white and there was but a small fringe of it running around the back of his head. Through a pair of small thick glasses, two steady eyes shot furtive glances- first in one direction then another, like a snake ' s tongue, I thought. He had very light skin and as he sat on the wooden folding chair his short legs barely touched the floor. My previous advisor was right about not having to wait long to see Professor George. It seemed very strange i n fact it made me a little suspicious that I was the
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