In February of my senior year in high school, I was invited to attend competitive scholarship interviews at the University of North Carolina at Greensboro. I hadn’t yet decided what college I wanted to attend or what I wanted to study, although most of my interests were in the liberal arts. UNCG had once been the Woman’s College, so it was known for good programs in liberal arts, nursing, music, and subjects that had once been related to home economics (nutrition, interior design).
When my parents drove me to Greensboro for interviews, it was my first campus visit. The invitation from the University included directions to a reception for scholarship finalists and their parents that would kick off the interview process. Dad had a map that showed UNCG, but it directed us to a different “main” entrance than the one provided in the invitation. Consequently, our directions got a little confusing and we got turned around.
Resisting gender stereotype, Dad decided to stop and ask someone for directions. Fortunately, college campuses abound with pedestrians. Dad pulled up alongside a student, rolled down the window, and asked, “Excuse me; can you tell me where the Alumni House is?”
The student seemed positively overjoyed to help us. “Oh, yiesss! It’s right over there!” He pointed with big dramatic gestures not unlike the Scarecrow in the Wizard of Oz. “If you jusssth drive to the end of thisss ssstreet and turn to the left, and then turn left again, it’ll be right there!”
I’m gonna take a wild stab and guess that he was a theatre major. He had more flames than an Olympics Opening Ceremony.
My dad thanked him kindly and rolled up the window. He then turned to me and said, “THIS is the college for you, daughter!”
Funny!
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