THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1994, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Friday, October 7, 1994 TAG: 9410070083
SECTION: DAILY BREAK PAGE: E14 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY HOLLY WESTER, CAMPUS CORRESPONDENT
LENGTH: Medium: 64 lines
FRESHMAN YEAR is one that most students would rather skip, whether it's high school or college.
First, there are the labels associated with first-year students. ``Fresh meat'' has always been my favorite.
Then there are the orientations, introductions and tours welcoming the new batch. These elements, which have been designed by people who have once been freshmen themselves, are supposed to make you feel more comfortable about your surroundings.
But to an embarrassed college freshman, what could be worse than a week of wandering around with a pair of goofy parents? The newcomers may as well wear sandwich boards boasting ``I am a freshman and I am lost.''
Needless to say, I was nervous about being a freshman at Virginia Wesleyan College. Since I had never technically been ``fresh meat'' before (my first year of high school was 10th grade and my first year at Tidewater Community College was not the typical freshman experience), this hearsay almost convinced me this would be the worst year of my life.
But the morning before orientation, something changed. While I was primping, I wondered why I was being so immature. ``Negative thoughts bring negative results,'' I told myself.
That's when it happened. In seconds, I went from freaked-out scaredy-cat to pro-freshman. I got in my little red Mirage and cruised to school with a new attitude.
So there I was, in line with my Aunt Cindy, picking up my orientation kit. After seeing this fat folder of information, I knew someone was on my side. I got my I.D. card and parking pass and headed over to the dining hall.
After lunch, I felt like exploring my new ``freshmanist'' attitude, so we went to the bookstore, picked out every Wesleyan-oriented thing in sight. My school spirit cost my aunt $70.
Before leaving campus, I dropped by the office of my adviser and explained that I was a busy, working commuter. He asked me when I could come back. I gave him the times, and it was a done deal.
The next few days were a breeze. In between jobs, I popped in to take my math placement test and set up my schedule.
The final step was registration - the one I anticipated to be the worst. I pulled up a few minutes early, headed in and expected to see a long and winding concert-type line around the building.
No line, no wait, no worry was the way it went down. I plopped down next to the lady at the computer, showed her what I picked and all the classes were open. I strolled back to my car and wondered if it had all been a dream. As the days passed, being a freshman got easier and easier.
I knew my way around the first day. If I had a question, I didn't sink into my own world and worry - I asked.
Not much has changed since that first week. The work has been challenging, but everything else has been simple. Parking is a cinch, my classmates are friendly and my professors are excited about teaching. There is a real sense of community around campus, even though all students don't live there.
I am a little embarrassed about my fears. Being a ``freshwoman'' isn't the nightmare it is cracked up to be. ILLUSTRATION: Photo
Holly Wester is a freshman at Virginia Wesleyan.
by CNB