Earlier this month, Elysha and I took Clara on her second college visit — and the very first of my life.
When I graduated from high school, college wasn’t in the cards for me. No teacher, guidance counselor, or parent ever even spoke the word “college” to me, and after I received my diploma, I was on my own at 18, living with friends, struggling to make ends meet.
When I was 23 years old, I finally made it to college, but it was Manchester Community College — my only option at the time.
No college visit for a school that still taught many of its classes in portable buildings (which we called trailers) set in a large, lonely field.
I had no money, which also meant I could attend community college almost for free. I worked full-time, managing a McDonald’s restaurant in Hartford while attending classes full-time. Eventually, I took a second job in student government, a third job on the school’s newspaper, and a fourth job in the writing center, where I helped my peers with their work.
I added a fifth job a year later when I launched my wedding DJ company with my friend and former roommate, Bengi.
As graduation from Manchester Community College approached, I got lucky. I was offered a full scholarship to Trinity College, Wesleyan University, and Yale University. I was a USA Today Academic All-American, a Truman Scholarship finalist, and the President of the National Honor Society, so absent any college visits, those three institutions of higher learning reached out and invited me to attend in the fall.
No application required.
I’ve never even taken the SATs or ACTs.
I probably could’ve done a college visit then, but I still needed to continue managing the McDonald’s restaurant to survive. Trinity College was conveniently located about ten minutes down the road from my restaurant.
Though Yale was appealing, it was 45 minutes from my home. Working full-time, attending college full-time, and running a DJ company wasn’t going to work with a 45-minute commute to New Haven every day.
Trinity College was my choice by default, so no point in doing a college visit.
Eventually, I would add St. Joseph’s University to my academic landscape to earn my teaching degree. I exploited a loophole that allowed Trinity students to take classes via a consortium of schools, including St. Joseph’s University, an all-women’s college at the time.
Most student took a class or two at most over the course of their four years. Typically, it was a class not being offered at their home school or one that didn’t fit into their schedule.
But I took a full degree problem, much to the surprise of both Trinity and St. Joseph’s. Both initially balked at the idea, but after looking carefully at the rules, they realized they couldn’t stop me. It wasn’t easy, especially given how much I was working, but I managed to earn an English degree from Trinity and a teaching degree from St. Joseph’s University simultaneously.
But I didn’t visit St. Joseph’s University either. Since I had no choice about where I would attend, I just enrolled and went.
So it was exciting to take my first college visit at age 54 — and to a college I actually attended in 1991. Back then, Dean College — located in Franklin, Massachusetts — was a junior college about five miles down the road from where I lived. McDonald’s sent me to Dean to take business classes at night.
I didn’t earn a degree of any kind, but I took three or four classes about management and finance.
My friend, Coog, was a student at Dean at the time, working as a DJ at the radio station. One of my favorite moments from that time was driving home from work on a late Saturday afternoon, listening to the radio, and hearing Coog say, “Just a few hours from now, I’ll be partying with Matty and Bengi at the Heavy Metal Playhouse alongside a whole bunch of other people. I can’t wait.”
Boy, has Dean changed in the span of 35 years.
About a year after I stopped taking classes, Dean ditched its junior college identity and became a fully accredited college. Clara’s guidance counselor has recommended the school to us more than once, so last month, we headed to Franklin to visit.
I found myself both so happy for Clara and simultaneously so jealous.
Whatever school Clara ultimately attends, she’s lucky to be heading to college for an experience I could have only dreamed of having.
Living on a beautiful campus with people from all over the country. Amenities beyond compare. Endless academic opportunities. The time and space to make friends, explore interests, pursue a career, dive into internships, and learn without worrying about tuition, rent, or grocery bills.
No worries about making ends meet, profit and loss statements, food cost, labor cost, and malfunctioning HVAC units.
I’m so happy for my girl. So glad we can send her to a place like Dean, where she can launch herself into this world.
Also jealous that I never got to do a college visit. Jealous that I never lived on campus, made college friends, joined clubs, played sports, or walked across a quad on a fall afternoon without planning every moment of the day so I could get everything done.
Jealous I never had a chance to be so young and carefree.
A college visit is a pretty great thing — a chance to walk a beautiful campus alongside a student guide and learn about all the things the school has to offer. Everything from academics to extracurriculars. Technology and food. Entertainment and housing.
A college visit is also a bit of an oddity:
The college tries to persuade you to ask them to attend. They try to sell you on a product that they may ultimately prevent you from purchasing.
“Love us so we can think about loving you.”
Weird.
Still, it was pretty great, and I couldn’t be happier for Clara.
And I couldn’t be happier with the way my life turned out, too. I’m only jealous on behalf of the person I used to be. Jealous that the Matthew Dicks of the past didn’t have the chance to attend college and take advantage of those four years like most people.
My friend Bengi, who moved off campus after his freshman year (which is why we moved in together in the home we affectionately called The Heavy Metal Playhouse), once said to me, almost off-handedly:
“It’s too bad you couldn’t go to college right out of high school. You were built to live on campus as a traditional student. It would’ve been the best time of your life.”
I think he was probably right. It would’ve been one of the best times of my life. Memorable beyond compare.
Clara will just have to do that for me. Eventually, Charlie, too.
I’ll watch them with bittersweet enthusiasm, a longing for what never was, and relentless support.to help make their dreams come true.
