Walla Walla University - Mountain Ash Yearbook (College Place, WA)

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REGISTORIENTATION 14 by Nancy Carpenter I sat in the balcony of the old church, site of the first Freshman orientation meeting, examining the dozens of faces beiow me. I listened to our class being extolled as the great class of 1976, but my bewildered brain shut out the supposedty inspiring speeches as I thought about the coming ordeal of registration. Outside Columbia Auditorium the next morn- ing we stood in little circles talking quietly in the security of old friends. The importance of the English placement test seemed almost overwhelming as some of us feared being put in Bonehead Composition, while others feared not making Honors Composition. The test was hard, but the worst thing about it was the constant trudging of the tireless monitors who clomped by at least every thirty seconds destroying my concentration. Rain fell that afternoon in a half-hearted attempt towards covering the campus with gloom, and dampening the freshman banquet later that evening. Visiting faculty homes after the banquet seemed, at first, to be a very boring thing to do, but the genuine interest the teachers showed provided for meeting new people and making the time pass too quickly. Registration the next morning was an ordeal designed to destroy everyone's patience. Those who got up early had to stand for hours in the chilly autumn air, but they had the reward of getting all the classes they wanted. Those who got there late, or even on time, had the exasperating experience of reshuffling schedules because of closed-out classes. The noise of hundreds of voices was terrific and frustration was evident on faces everywhere, but

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Man, these registration lines get worse every year. particularly on those who were talking to their professors. Why couldn't I talk to my professors before registration without impatient people glaring at me to hurry? With hands aching from writer's cramp and feet aching from shuffling, people stared blankly or grudgingly smiled at the camera. Finally, with registration over and precious money spent on textbooks that hinted tactually shoutedy of. themes, exams, labs, and many long hours of studying, I felt as if I belonged. During the next week, I trium- phantly attended the right classes in the right rooms at the right time, trying to lose the obvious distinc- tion of being a freshman. It worked until that ancient rite of Initiation Day came along and destroyed my cover. Hopefully, that was the last interruption in my goal to Umature. Otherwise, I'd be better off still waiting in that chilly autumn air for anything but school. 16