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| Hannah in gorgeous Mobile, Alabama, during her visit to the University of Mobile |
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| Livin' the Burg life: it never ceases to tickle me that my European girl quickly finds her roots when she gets to the Burg--riding in trucks, wearing flip flops, and riding horses. We love our Burg family! |
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| Through thick and thin and many, many years and miles, these two have remained devoted friends. |
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| Lookin' like her momma many years back: Han at Kerr Dorm on the campus of Oklahoma Baptist University. |
If you are our friends on facebook, you know the last two weeks have been big for Hannah: a visit with her sister, grandparents, aunt and uncle and cousins in Texas, followed by a visit to the University of Mobile, a week plus with her second family in our hometown of Middleburg, Florida, and then a visit yesterday to our alma mater, Oklahoma Baptist University. Of course, Marc and I would love to be able to take her on her campus visits, but we are so, so thankful for friends and family who are always willing to step in and help our kids get things done. Both college visits went really, really well, and we're very excited about what the future holds for our girl. We especially enjoyed phone calls and messages yesterday from OBU's campus, as she met old friends of ours (I wonder how many times she heard, 'I went to school with your parents!'), stayed in my sophomore-year dorm overnight, and walked the campus that so shaped our lives.
I am glad that Sarah Beth went to a small, Christian liberal arts school, and I'm glad those are the kinds of schools Hannah is looking at, too. There is NOTHING wrong (before I get all kinds of messages) with a big, state university education. Nothing. It's no secret that I am very proud of my graduate degree from the University of Florida (Go Gators!). I've done both--the small private college and the big state university. Both have their positives and negatives. But I can honestly say--and I am pretty sure Marc would agree--that besides, of course, my parents, little has had more impact on my life than my undergraduate education at OBU. Here are just a few ways OBU shaped my life.
- Knowing and being known: Even my core classes that everyone had to take--Old Testament, New Testament, Western Civ, etc.--were relatively small. My professors knew me. They didn't just know me by name--they KNEW me. They invested in me. I went to their houses for cookouts. They took me on poetry weekends (Dr. Joe Hall--the professor I most wanted to impress and who found me the least impressive student ever), told me stories about their dogs (Dr. Shirley Jones--who said our first Shakespeare papers were so terrible that she'd lined up her dogs and kicked their legs in her anger--she hadn't), made sure I was prepared for post-graduate exams needed for my teaching license (Dr. Laura Crouch), and told me life wouldn't end because I didn't fully understand transformational grammar, which is basically math with words (Dr. Jones again). Their job was to be the absolute best teachers they could be. And to do that, knowing us and investing in us was of primary importance.
- A basic knowledge of the trends of history: It was dreaded by everyone (except me, because it was basically my major and minor in one class): Western Civ. Two semesters of wading your way through the literature and history of the western world. Who did you have for Civ? is a question every OBU alum knows to ask. (Jones and Farthing, then Farthing and Watson for me, in case you're interested.) Unlike some people who shall remain nameless (but whose name rhymes with park), I read and devoured every book, every bit of history in those two semesters. When I first started teaching English literature, I based many lesson plans off my Civ notes. And as I've settled my life in Europe for the past seven years, I see God using what I know about western culture to help me understand the places I've lived.
- Preparation for life: Marc will absolutely tell you that the reason he is a media jack-of-all-trades is because he was trained at OBU, where you had to specialize (his specialty is in video production), but you also had to learn to do everything else in your field at least competently. Know why I'm well-read? Because I didn't have a choice. My professors were determined that those of us with English degrees could read and write and understand the nuances of words and syntax far beyond the level of mere competency. We had a 100% pass rate on the state teacher's exam for a reason: thorough (sometimes painfully so) preparation. Our professors, because they had small classes and were personally responsible for grading papers and exams, knew our strengths and weaknesses intimately. For every student whose paper I have ever marked--blame OBU, and know that my papers looked exactly like that until I improved.
- Permission to fail: I was not great at everything. Spanish, for example. And I was less-than-gracious when I, for the very first time, failed a test. I'd never failed at anything. I didn't fail academically, as I informed my sweet, wise professor (Senora Pernalete) somewhat caustically. "Well, it seems you have failed this," was her response. Not unkindly, she pointed out that failure was part of learning just as much as success, especially when it comes to learning a language. Boy, oh boy, I couldn't know then what a theme of my life that would become as I learned first Russian and then German. She was right, by the way. Failure is a part of learning.
- Friendships and family: We have deep friendships from our OBU years. It's wonderful to know all kinds of people, people who agree with you on things, people who don't--both are blessings. But those friendships from OBU are founded and based not only on a shared history (and many, many TBT pictures of really, really big hair), but also on the firm foundation of a love for Christ. A major part of our support system is those folks who have known us through thick and thin for the past 30 or so years. In the midst of all the work for Sochi, Marc received a note--much cherished--from the current president of OBU, simply telling him that the OBU family was proud of him. I cannot remember a week that we haven't received a note from someone from our OBU years telling us we were being prayed for. And when things are not going so well, when it's easy to think this life is one failure after another, someone from our OBU family picks us up, prays for us, holds our hand, and reminds us that they have known us longer than just about anyone, and they love us and believe in us. If you can find that kind of friendship, you should hold onto it tightly. Those friendships are precious treasures.
His,
Kellye
