Spring semester is here, and it has happened again: the topic of non-traditional, older students arose, framed by failure. It doesn’t happen in every class, but it happens enough that it has gotten on my last nerve.
I am curious if anyone has looked at the withdrawal rate for older students and compared it to those of our younger counterparts. When was the last time you heard of a group of us older types blowing off a summer class to go to the beach?
If we, as an academic community, are going to generalize, perhaps we need to question the validity of those generalizations before announcing them in class.
To those professors who have committed the above-mentioned crimes, I have something to say.
Dear Professor,
I am in your class not by happenstance, not because I was out so late the night before registration began so that slept while all the daytime sections were filling up. I am in your class because I want to be.
Yes, I balance a full-time job, three kids and a life with school, so time for me comes at a premium. Completing my degree is so important that I am willing to give up some of that precious time.
I am in your class because I am under the impression you might know something I want to learn. I am not there to make my parents happy, they are both gone now. I am not there to make anyone happy but me.
I pay the bill, and I am frugal by nature.
Why is it some of you insist that it will be impossible to pass your class if you work a full time job?
A particular episode of such age-based generalizations had me crying and sobbing into my cell phone to my partner all the way from Luther Bonney to the car. I later passed the class with an A.
Some of you also feel the need to speak to the inevitability that “life will get in the way” to those of us who work, have a family and are on the eight-year plan.
You seem to think we will be the most likely in class to withdraw past the official withdrawal period. Why is it that you frame us older family-types as most likely to fail?
You lay out your expectations of us as students quite clearly on the first night of class. Let me share some of my own expectations with you.
I expect respect—respect for my knowledge and for the experience that I bring to your classroom. I expect respect for my efforts, both in the class and out.
Most of us older students have moved heaven and earth to make allowances to get that degree, no matter long it takes us. While I don’t expect special treatment because I passed the big 4-0 several years ago, I expect you to realize I am of a different generation then other students in your class.
I am easily discouraged, as many women of my generation are.
Far too many people in our lives have told us we weren’t smart enough to be here. I expect some attempt at understanding on your part.
Perhaps you might be a little more encouraging and a little less Socratic in your methods.
There are some professors and instructors who realize the value in the fact that their students are there at 9 a.m. on a Saturday morning, or that they remain well into the evening several times a week.
Did you know that some instructors teach class on Saturdays because they like the students whoare willing to get up that early on a weekend to be there?
All I ask is for a little validation of my efforts and struggles. After all, haven’t I already validated yours by enrolling in your course?
Before you count us out as students, please recognize how hard we struggle to stay positive in our quest towards our degrees, and don’t frame us only as those most likely to fail.
Most Sincerely,
Your Student