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One of the happiest times of my life was my college experience. I went to a small Presbyterian college and majored in music; the organ was my instrument. My tuition was paid for by a music scholarship, a Marine Corps Foundation scholarship, a work scholarship playing the organ for chapel services, and World War II war bonds.

I was the first in my family to attend college. Nowadays, those students are called "first generational." For me, being a "first generational" meant my parents and grandparents were bursting with pride during those four years, especially since I was making good grades, and destined to graduate. To prove it, my grandmother frequently sent coffee tins filled with her famous, homemade, molasses cookies and a note stating how proud she was of me.

It was hard on my mother, though. Having only one child, she was the consummate "room mother," as well as Girl Scout troop leader and Sunday school teacher. She never worked outside the home, as it was called in those days.

Her most cherished dream was to go to college herself, but this was never an option. Her family was dirt poor. and nobody went to college. After high school graduation, she immediately went to work at the tailor shop on Parris Island. However, she loved to read-anything and everything.

When I was nine-years-old, Mother purchased a wildly expensive set of World Book Encyclopedias from a door-to-door salesman. It was the white, leatherette deluxe edition, with gold-rimmed pages. She claimed it was for me, but she loved those encyclopedias dearly. She read them from Volume 1, "A", to Volume 20, "WXYZ". She would frequently read interesting tidbits out loud to my father and me: "George. Mary Hope. Listen to this," she would say, while we were watching our tiny black and white television.

My parents subscribed to three newspapers (Grit, The State, and The
Beaufort Gazette) and Readers' Digest, a monthly treat for us. I actually learned to read by sounding out the jokes in each issue. My mother would turn to "It Pays to Increase Your Word Power," and would circle her answers in ink! This made her an amazing Scrabble player.

Nothing quite prepared us for the extent of her "empty nest syndrome". I was leaving home to do what she had always wanted to do-attend college. If she couldn't attend herself, she decided she would attend it through me. "Vicariously" my father teased her. "Look it up", he laughed, pointing to her dictionary.

Long distance phone calls were expensive, so they were limited to Sunday, when rates went down. She missed me terribly, and wanted to know all about my classes, particularly my required Bible courses.

Being a Christian school in the late 60s, there were three required courses in Bible: Old Testament, New Testament, and the Gospels. We were required to read long homework assignments. My mother was fascinated. She read the assignments right along with me! Our phone conversations included what she had been reading the previous week, and what did the professor have to say. She started mailing me questions to ask in class, and here I tried to draw the line. "I'm not asking your questions," I whined. "They will know they aren't mine, and I'm not telling anyone my mother thinks she is taking this course, too." My father loved it. "Oh go on, honey," he'd say to me. "Just humor her. It will give the preacher a break!" Her questions were the perennial mind-bogglers, such as "Who was Cain's wife?"

At the end of each semester she would read my lecture notes, and ask even more questions. I encouraged her many times to take classes at the new two-year branch of USC Beaufort downtown.  She was embarrassed by the idea, shrugging, "An old person like me?"

Now, I am in a second career as a college instructor at the beautiful USC Beaufort Gateway campus. I teach a few classes, and place student teachers in the local schools. I get to mingle with 18-22 year olds on a daily basis, as well as "nontraditional" (code word for older) students. It is an enjoyable, fulfilling career. I walk around the beautiful campus, visit the student center and the high tech library.

I buy the discount faculty meal ticket each semester, and enjoy eating lunch in the dining hall. TV monitors are usually on music channels, and students have ear buds connected to their phones listening to even more music. It's an exciting, busy place, with lots of energy.

There are many activities: movies, sports, plays, concerts, jumping castles, ski trips, talent shows, spirit week antics, and clubs. There is "Throw a pie" at your professor day, and blood drive week. On AIDS Awareness Day a colleague and I were offered a handful of bright colored condoms. "Gee, I don't think so," I demurred. My friend took some and winked, "Hey, you never know!"

One of the biggest joys I have is sitting in classes that intrigue me, with permission of course.  I attended "Lifespan Development," taught by the "Adjunct Professor of the Year," where I also learned a lot about college teaching. She was definitely in charge of the large class of young adults, ("Absolutely no texting!"), but she made it so interesting that no one broke her rules.

I sat in "Sociology of the Criminal Mind". My husband was a little appalled. The discussions the professor lead were lively and thoughtful. Last semester I took "Art History". I realized how much I didn't know about art when I visited the famous Chicago Art Institute. I shared the experience with an art professor after the trip, and she bubbled, "You need to sit in my class! I'd love to have you." So I did, and learned so much.

In addition there are hundreds of Osher Lifelong Learning Institute (OLLI) classes. The variety of offerings is amazing, from economics to religion to cooking to writing. The presenters have quite impressive backgrounds. The classes take place on several campuses, including the one where I work. It is pure joy to see seniors walking the campus, some with canes and walkers, alongside young people in flip flops who text as they all walk to class.

Of course, these older folks make me think about my mother. She would have loved OLLI courses.  She passed on her love of learning to me and I think of her every day at USCB.

 

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