College Days. Once upon a time I was a college recruiter. It like a dream job; plus it was my first "real job!" I got to travel around to all the high schools and set up a cute little table, drape a collegiate-looking tablecloth over the table, arrange some well designed (and expensive) brochures on that table and then stand behind (or in front of) that same table. Then I would smile and talk to prospective students by that table. My work life revolved around a table in those days. After the college fair, I would go out to eat with all the other "roadies" and sit around another table and laugh and get to know all about the other colleges and their recruiters.
I like tables now. All kinds of tables interest me. Small tables, big tables, end tables, dining room tables, coffee tables, breakfast nook tables, round tables, rectangle tables, oval tables, doll house tables, banquet tables, chrome tables, wooden tables, glass tables and my favorite, English tea tables.
I took my daughter to her College Night last week at the local high school, and we looked at all of the pretty brochures on all of the cute little tables all lined up, draped with collegiate-looking tablecloths. It was beautiful. I was suddenly swept back in time remembering my own College Night days.
I analyzed the recruiters trying to decide if they were "real" admission counselors (which was my official title back in the table days) or if they were alumni stand-ins. We chatted with several of them and I watched and listened how they interacted with my daughter. It was interesting to imagine myself back in the day doing the same thing that they were doing. I wanted my own table again with my own tablecloth! Heck, I want my own college to promote!
Texas Shamrocks University -- Go Rocks! Green and White!
It was completely overwhelming to my daughter. If we based her college decision on our best experience with an admission counselor that night, she would be going to a school that doesn't even have a program that she is interested in! She is now ultra-confused about what she wants to do when she grows up, much less which college she will attend. She was very excited about meeting someone behind the "Rice Table," but when we found the table, alas, no one was there. No brochures, no smiling admission counselor, nary a brochure nor a cloth. There was just a plain, empty, sad little table with a sign that said "Rice." I thought that Ike, the hurricane, probably was the cause for the no-show that night. Who knows. I'm pretty sure it was the only empty table at the school that night, though.
I wonder if I was ever a no-show. I don't think I was. I can't bear the thought of disappointing a prospective student.
Well, I've decided that my daughter will have to decide for herself where to go to college. I can't base her decision on the best brochure or the friendliest admission counselor. She would never do that anyway; that's my deal!
I think I'll sell all of my tables to pay for college for my daughter.
