If you tell folks you're a college student, folks are so impressed. You can be a student in anything and not have to know anything.
The above quote is from Chuck Palahniuk, famous author, and the only man who can combat M. Night Shyamalan in a game of "Plot Twister." What he's describing is certainly a guaranteed truism: college students are placed on a pedestal. That's not to say that anyone who goes to college is automatically better than someone who goes to vocational school or straight into the workplace. I have met a plethora of intelligent people who passed up college. Yet it is a begrudging fact that those who go to college are respected within their community compared to those who chose not to go. What Palahniuk did not discuss is that even with this arbitrary caste system between "college or not", there is a further caste system, namely between those who go to the university setting and those who attend through a distance education program.
For those unaware of my jargon, a distance education program is a way for college students to take the same courses as main campus students at a separate campus hosted by a community college, such as CVCC's East Campus. University professors will go travel to the "center" and teach the course in roughly the same manner, except that a typical three credit hour course intended for two 50 minute days/week is combined into one two and a half hour day. The price of tuition is exactly the same, and students are allotted most of the same resources, such as library database access and a student ID card. On the surface, it would seem that distance ed. students are seen as equals compared to main campus students, right?
Unfortunately, no, and here's an anecdote from last year explaining why. As a junior, I had the opportunity to get my class ring and participate in the ring ceremony held in the fall. Dressed in my best attire, my family and I were seated in the Convocation Center with the families of other students who were anxiously anticipating their rings. I shared a conversation with one family, talking about the weather, where they were from, basic cordial small talk. The father, an alumni from decades past, asked me, "Ready to come back home during the break?" My response: "Actually, I go to the center in Hickory, sir."
His resulting look was a cacophony of confusion, annoyance, and slight disdain. Needless to say, the conversation ended, and I stood on stage receiving the ring wondering if I truly belonged amongst this crowd.
I wasn't alone in facing this same response. Interviewing with my cohort members, some shared that they were thrown the jarring insult, "You're not a real App student," "Were you not smart enough?" or "So, you took the easy route." An educational lower-class in their eyes, so to speak. Perhaps the misconception is that we couldn't afford a "real education," the same ignorant stigma that follows community college students. Perhaps some believe that we took advantage of some "life hack" in the educational system that is reserved for people well beyond their glory days. Whatever the case may be, the term "App student" in our vocabulary is met with some hesitance and reconsideration, and I decided to find out.
Prepping for this article, I interviewed ten random students on campus during my last two visits and asked them under the guise of a junior journalism major and guaranteeing that their responses would be anonymous. "Do you consider distance education students to be legitimate App students?" Out of the ten students, seven did not know anything about the program, all of them questioned the rate of tuition and the costs of supplies, and only four claimed that the distance education students are "as good" as main campus, with the other six responses saying no due to different reasons such as:
1. "They're basically community college students."
2. "They're not paying for room and board."
3. "They're missing the college experience."
4. "They are not as stressed."
5. "Their degree won't mean as much."
6. "They can't attend as many football games."
In response to this, let me respectfully set the record straight. Our journey is by no means an easy route, as the professors and content are the same and delivered in nearly the same manner.
In fact, it can present its own challenges, such as:
Being at the mercy of Boone weather for our professors' travel to Hickory.
Not having the rental option from the Bookstore.
Communication with professors is exclusively digital outside of the classroom.
Dependence on community college courses for core classes (especially when the local colleges do not offer necessary courses for our content areas).
Strict deadline for completion within the cohort. (My cohort has to be finished by Fall 2016.)
Add in the fact that most of us have to pay for our education out of pocket due to diminished loans and hold down full-time jobs and parenthood, and our lives are not as carefree as some critics believe. Garnering enough credits from the community colleges can be nerve-wracking (I had to attend three community colleges in order to finish my lower-level work in Middle Grades Education); this became especially heinous during the summer semester where a few of my cohort members had to take three university classes along with an additional history and/or literature courses from CVCC, bringing their overall credit hours during the summer to at least twelve.
I state all of this not to vent, nor to disparage anyone who does go to the main campus, as I gladly take trips up to enjoy the atmosphere and scenery amongst my friends. I also have no regrets about doing the program, as it allowed me to help my family pay for my twin's schooling at UNCSA and also come across many wonderful future educators. My plight is one of respect, as we all bleed black and yellow in the name of higher education. So if you happen to see me on the main campus going to meetings for Odyssey or perusing King Street for a filling meal, remember our motto:
Esse quam videri
To be, rather than to seem. We are not "seemingly" App State students. We are Mountaineers.