Ye Old College Tour Guide

elonfurman-university-belltower

This past weekend, Stephanie, Julie and I took our final, I think, university visit before decision day 2018.  We have it narrowed down to two:  Furman University in Greenville, SC, and Elon in Burlington, NC.

It is interesting that your college decision, a big one I might add, often relies upon two factors:

  • the weather
  • the tour guide

Both are a crap shoot.

Our primary guide this week was a freshman from Lenoir, NC, named Rupert.  He was enthusiastic and had his full head of black hair moosed up.  His bangs pointed toward heaven like a duck’s beak.  Although, from my estimation, he’d only been at Elon for seven months, he said he’d changed his major three times.  Reassuring to those who have yet to determine their lifelong goals.

Our tour group was small, only four.  Rupert was able to give us plenty of attention.

Rupert walked backwards the majority of the hike across campus.  Although it was evident he was walking backwards, he specifically pointed it out to us.  I think that was what he was primarily excited about – he was very proud of this skill.

I feel sort of sorry for Rupert and his colleagues across America.  These pour souls work so hard to be engaging, and yet, the high school senior demographic is not too keen on participation.  When your guide asks, “Does anyone have any questions,” so hopeful to fill the silence void, they often get nada.  The kids are too cool to ask; the parents have been threatened.  Julie’s kids told her she could not ask questions which is really, really hard for her.  I was warned too not to go overboard.  But when the dude says, “If you ask questions it makes my job easier,” I just feel compelled to speak.

I want to ask things like:

“Do the college students here drink, smoke pot and have sex?  And if so, what percentage of the student population do those things and how often?”  Or, “Do you have friends?  How did you make them?  I don’t want my baby to be lonely.”

I refrain, often asking what I already know:

“Does this school have study abroad?”

“Is the food good?”

“Are there clubs you can join?”

Anything to keep us from standing there in uncomfortable silence.

In one of the dorms, the guide opened a dorm room door and Julie and Stephanie walked in.  The stunned student, sprawled out on his futon was quite surprised, “This is not the room you’re supposed to visit!” he snarled at the guide.

Ooops.  Thankfully he was just reading.  It could have been much, much worse.

I feel really good about Stephanie’s options for college.  She wants a small liberal arts school and both of these fit that bill.  And perhaps this time next year she can don a purple or burgundy polo shirt and walk backwards through campus herself.  That might give her a little more patience with the adults in her life!

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Stephanie, the Pickle Farmer

college visit photo

Another junior, another week of college tours!  Whoa baby.

What a great way to spend one-on-one time with your kid.  A car, a dad, a daughter and 947 miles of walking around college campuses.

The first one was interesting.  It declined from there.

Things I rediscovered about universities and making that all important, life-changing decision:

  • Every school has a blue light emergency system. This is pointed out at all of the schools for parents who are scared to death that their kid is going to be attacked walking across campus at 2 AM.  I am one of those parents.  I like the blue light stations.
  • For a high school junior female on tour, the cuter the male guide, the higher the satisfaction with the college. At Furman, half of the tour was given on long purple golf carts.  Stephanie and I had been near the back of the walking portion of the tour led by a cute, peppy female co-ed.  When the staff member pointed us toward the golf carts for the remainder of our visit, a blonde stud muffin with a million dollar smile stepped out of the driver’s side inviting us to embark.  Stephanie knocked over two other girls, three moms and a grandmother to sit on the row behind Sven.  I glared at her.  “I’m really interested in this college” she defended.  I should arrange for the cuter guides to meet us at the cheaper schools.  Seriously?  We can’t make a decision on where to attend college based on the hotness factor of the dude leading the tour!  That is NOT a good measuring stick.
  • At each school, the first question prospective students are asked is “What are you considering for your major?” Stephanie is undecided although she has some interest in psychology.  I suggested she share her potential major.  She did not.  She didn’t want to commit.  I told her it didn’t matter what she said on tour, that it was not binding – that they would not force her to become a child psychologist simply because she mentioned it in April of her junior year in high school.  As we drove down the highway, we saw a sign for Mt. Olive College (we did not tour there).  But since Mt. Olive is famous for pickles, I suggested when asked about her future vocation at the next stop she say, “I am considering becoming a pickle farmer.”  We wondered how that would go over at Wake Forest.
  • I was aware that most higher learning establishments housed a Starbucks. I was unaware that the most frequently asked question by students on a college tour was, “Do you have a Chic Fil A?”  I do not know why that surprised me.  When DJ went to college in Washington, DC, she picked up jogging as a hobby.  That was shocking since she absolutely HATES to run.  But then, I realized, she was not running for exercise or endorphin pleasure.  She was running to catch the Chic Fil A food truck.  There are no stores near campus so she had an ap on her phone that tracked the vehicle’s whereabouts.  If within three miles of her dorm, she would don the running gear and high tail it to chicken.  By the way, all but one of the universities we visited had a Chic Fil A.  So don’t panic.  One is near.

This is not my last child nor my last week of tours.  Although a bit boring and repetitive, I would not trade this time with my kids for anything.  What an incredible way to get uninterrupted time with someone you love.