Читать книгу Becoming a Counselor - Samuel Gladding T., Samuel T. Gladding - Страница 44

I did not start college at Wake Forest University, where I finished my undergraduate degree. Rather, I started at Stetson University and then transferred there. I went to Stetson because it was a small Baptist college and I planned to be a minister. I had not visited, but the pictures looked good. However, I soon learned that the pictures did not tell the story.

Instead of being vibrant and dynamic, campus life at Stetson in the early 1960s was as placid as a lake. Besides the campus flicks on Friday or Saturday nights, there was not a lot to do as a first-year student if you were not in a fraternity or sorority. Realizing this fact, I decided I would go Greek. However, the Greeks decided otherwise. I had been popular in high school, so I had some confidence when I went out to rush. There were eight fraternities with about 40 to 50 guys in each. Thus, I thought, “No problem.” I should have thought again.

The first time I rushed was in the fall semester of my first year. I did not receive an invitation back to any of the houses, let alone a bid to join one of the groups. I was amazed, shocked, and more than disappointed. Determined, I rushed two more times: once in the spring semester of my first year and then again in the fall semester of my sophomore year. History repeated itself. Ouch! I did not understand why.

It did not occur to me until years later that I may have lacked “packaging,” that is, height. At 5 feet 2 inches, I was not of average height, and for men in fraternities then being of average height was the first step in having your ticket punched to join. Thus, my stature ruled me out from being a part of the Greek system. The pictures of the groups in the yearbooks of the time seem to back up my hypothesis . . . although let’s face it, maybe I had bad breath!

I realize through the experience how important an environment is in thriving. Although Greeks, geeks, and even a few freaks did well at Stetson, misfits did not, and I was a misfit. I blamed myself initially but carried on in my family’s tradition of keeping a stiff upper lip. I made my grades, wrote for the student newspaper, and worked on a committee of the Student Union. Outside of these activities, I had a less than exciting and desirable college life. I was in a social desert. Thus, I decided to transfer because it was too painful being in such an atmosphere. I had an opportunity to move on.

Diversity and openness matter. They create options. I wish for the place and time I began college that there had been Romans!