I just had dinner [note: the Quiet Storm has decent mac & cheese] with Bruce, and it was quite enjoyable. We discussed art and war and books and the President of Iran’s speaking at Columbia University and what we’re each doing with our lives and protestors and apathy and the state of our country/government/society/souls. Dinner really is better with company.
They say that it takes half the length of a relationship to fully recover, post-breakup. I wonder how long it takes to get over one’s college education.
This afternoon/early evening, a freshman from Messiah College called me soliciting for donations. After updating my address in her file and inquiring as to whether or not I have a mobile phone number that I could be reached at as well (apparently 717 is the area code for Pittsburgh now), she began the painfully long and laborious process of inquiring at what level I would like to contribute. At the $100 level, I politely interrupted as I always do (I feel as though it’s impolite to cut them off before $250, but out of regard to myself, I do not permit them to continue past $100), explaining that I had no intention of donating and really, to save both her and myself time, we might as well wrap up the conversation now. This usually works quite well, both of us have a good laugh, and we go on our merry way – not today. Today’s telemarketer was persistent, cutting back in with the lower suggested donations and replaying the same ol’ lines about how since I had benefitted from scholarships, I really should give back and make these same opportunities that I had available to everyone. Talk about your guilt-trippin’ businesswoman. To this, I responded that though I had attended Messiah College, if I had money to dish out to institutions of higher education, I would much prefer to give my money to a public one, as I had a number of issues with Messiah College as an educational institution. To this, she still would not let up, but snidely asked, “What issues?”
Oh boy.
At this point, I was extremely frustrated with the situation, and the time for attempting to plug the dam was quite obviously past, so without taking even a second to draw a breath or gather my thoughts, out came the deluge: “the anti-homosexuality policy, white privilege, a definitive lack of racial minorities on campus and even if they were there what kind of an environment actually exists for them, lack of worldviews and experiences and diversity in the formative years, way too much emphasis on things of relatively minute significance and not nearly enough on many things that matter most in life, this is not a mixed-class school.”
After this, she countered a little, but she was a little weaker in her arguments and we both knew it. After pseudo-discussing my “issues” with her a bit further – with her attempting to explain to me as to why it would be a much better decision to donate money to Messiah College than to a public educational institution all the way - she left me a number at the college to call, should I wish to discuss my issues with someone there.
Ah, issues, how I love thee.
After I hung up with her, I was frustrated and emotionally exhausted and perhaps even a bit angry as well. I paced about my apartment for a bit and then went and furiously scrubbed clean the pile of dishes that’s been sitting in my sink for the past few days before setting off on a pilgrimage to the Quiet Storm.
I’ve been physically removed from Messiah College for going on two years now – why do I still feel so strongly about my time there? [I wonder if any - and if so, how much - of this thought/feeling/emotion is related to recent revelations on white privilege and classism as prompted by my white privilege discussion group.]
I’m slowly coming to accept the fact that I went to Messiah College, and that is something - I no longer automatically respond “Temple University” when asked where I went to school, and I’ve been freely offering this info myself more and more as of late. However, when it cuts down from the macro shot onto the more microscopic levels – at my day-to-day interactions with roommates, classmates, professors during my time at Messiah College – the picture gets a lot more blurry. How did these interactions affect my worldviews, my future decisions, where I am today? What that I know today did I not know then and if I had, what would I have done differently?
[It won't do to forever be kicking myself for not knowing yesterday what I know today; this I need to remember. Just because it is not the school I would choose to attend today, I did choose it six years ago and with that, I must be content.]
Life is amazingly awkward at times, of which today – and this whole subplot, really – is but one example.
1 Comment
October 7, 2007 at 11:46 pm
I had a phone conversation just like that (minus any discussion of issues with the school) last spring. After it started out friendly with a few updates, etc., she started pressuring me to give money and when I said no she wouldn’t let up and kept lowering it all the way down to $10 with the same scripted speech each time. Aparently the fact that I had just moved accross the country, was pretty much broke, and still hadn’t made a minute fraction of what my family and I originally paid Messiah wasn’t even close to a good enough excuse not to give them all my spare money.