Like many of my classmates, I’ve dedicated several days over the past six months to visiting universities across the country in hopes of selecting a handful where I could happen to spend the next four years. In an attempt to differentiate between what can seem like a million identical schools (despite their own varying qualities–one being size), as I traveled to larger state universities, my most common, yet vital questions have been, “Is it easy to explore here?” and “How difficult is it to get the classes you want?”
While these seem like obvious questions to me, a student who might jump from a very small school to one with thousands of scholars all eyeing those same classes, it has recently occurred to me that maybe the other kids on these tours aren’t wondering this same thing.
Over the years I’ve heard more than one horror story about that really great, versatile, high-aiming, all-right-doing student who, on that much anticipated May date, opened up their myschoolapp.com only to the horrifying realization that they had no science period and, according to the registrar, no free slot available to take in any of the offered electives. Although not quite as drastic, I’d heard about even more students who, while decided upon a specific major/focus for college, say Psychology or Mathematics, were unable to register for the corresponding electives of Mind & Brain or Advanced Topics in Math, the very courses most needed to investigate interest, demonstrate capability, or develop vital, long-lasting teacher relationships due to schedule conflicts with their other subject requirements.
When my portal loaded on this very day last spring, I was quite pleasantly surprised when I got the four classes I had really wanted. Unfortunately, what was not as pleasant was what ensued as I began my classes (and college essays) this fall and realized I really wanted to switch one of them. I could take my first visual arts course (to complete my art credits, enjoy the creative process, and not have to come into school at eight in the morning three times a week as a senior) or take Anatomy (which would aid in preparing me for a degree on the Pre-Med track in college). But there wasn’t anything that the school could do for me. I was told the class I needed to switch into was full. In fact, I was now one of five on the waiting list.
Disclaimer: a week or so after I wrote my column initially, I was actually offered the spot I wanted thanks to a group of lovely peers of mine who all turned down said spot. Much love for all of them. Regardless, I was hit with a boatload of missed work that I’m still (yes, in October) having to make up.
Even though I won the lottery when it came to this semester, my stress-inducing experience caused me to reflect more critically on the realities of our school. It sucks that as Upperclassmen who have dedicated anywhere from three to thirteen years to study at this school, in our final years of heightened aptitude for growth and discovery we are often restricted in the academic disciplines we can explore. It’s great that Parker gives you all these weeks to drop and add to your schedule, but that cannot speak to Parker’s flexibility or do absolutely anything for students if there aren’t spots that allow us to personalize and expand the reach of our educational experiences. Though I think Parker’s size offers many excellent perks in terms of our community and its role in interdisciplinary education, it leads to more than one disadvantage. In other words, are we really given everything to help when it comes to preparation for our futures?
The irony here is that our school has virtually unlimited resources–clubs with infinite budgets, random donut splurges, and stacks of over-ordered textbooks–and, yet, in settings such as registration, these resources seem to reach such a clearly defined and exceedingly substantial limit. Is Parker really doing everything they can to offer students choices and abundance where they’re most important? How problematic is it that just a few blocks down the street I could be taking classes in Film Study, Business Management, or Advanced Psychology that simply aren’t offered at Parker? More broadly, do students (especially those who know their destined career path) lose something by going to Parker where they’re not offered multiple courses of varying difficulties in a specific track of study? And, on the other hand, for those of us who aren’t quite sure what we want to do, does the inability to truly access the breadth of courses Parker does offer stop us from even finding this future track? To what extent is Parker truly giving us the tools and the guided support we need to thrive as future scholars, workers, and leaders? To what extent is Parker helping, and to what are they hindering?
