Page 29 of Little Etheldreda Riding Hood

“I’m Etheldreda, but most people call me Red.”

The woman grins. “I’m Dr. Morales, but most people call me Nita. Come in, come in. I just pulled up your record.”

The room I enter has books scattered everywhere. There are stacks and stacks of them on top of things, in piles on the floor, on the windowsill. Nearly every horizontal space available has a stack of books on it. Two desks are squeezed into the tiny room and overstuffed bookshelves line the walls. Above one of the desks hangs all of Dr. Morales’s degrees in fancy frames. She pulls a chair up next to hers and motions for me to sit next to her. “So, Red, tell me a little bit about yourself.”

“Uh, I’m starting over and I thought it was time to go back to school and make something of myself.”

She nods and turns back to the computer. “Your file says you’re looking at secondary education with a concentration in history. Is that right?”

I nod. “I want to be a high school teacher and history was always my favorite subject.”

She smiles warmly, her eyes lighting up. “I love when history lovers land on my doorstep. When did you graduate high school?”

“It’s been seven years. My mama got sick, and I had to keep working. After she died, my fiancé didn’t think it was a good idea for me to waste the money on school when I was just going to be a stay-at-home mom.”

Nita frowns. “Ugh, men. So it’s been seven years. Okay, well, let’s see what’s open still. Now you’re going to need to take some pre-algebra classes to get you back up to speed with college level math, so let’s see what our options are.”

Nita taps away at the computer until another screen with lists of classes pops up. “Next semester, you’ll be able to register on your own and your screen will look a lot like this,” she tells me. “See here, these are all sections that are closed, but this one at four p.m. on Tuesdays and Thursdays is open. Would that work for you?”

I nod. “Yes, I work overnights at a restaurant, so that would be perfect.”

She nods, “Excellent. Are you wanting only afternoon classes, then?”

“It’d let me get some sleep in.”

“Well, there’s not a lot still open, but I have a two p.m. Intro to History that isn’t full, if you’d like to jump right into your concentration.”

“That sounds great.”

Nita clicks through some more screens, frowning. “I’m afraid there’s not much else on your degree plan that we can fit into the schedule. Normally, we advise taking four classes a semester, but I don’t think we’ll be able to make that happen for you this time.”

I shake my head. “That’s fine. I don’t really have a lot of money right now, anyway.”

“Did you apply for financial aid?”

I nod. “Yeah, but it was just a few days ago, so I’m not sure anything has been processed yet.”

Dr. Morales types some more and pulls up a screen, then frowns. “Yeah, unfortunately you’re right, but we do have payment plans we can put you on while we wait to see what comes back from financial aid.”

The amount of money at the bottom of the screen makes my stomach drop. I try not to show it. Even with a payment plan, it’s going to be hard to swing the amount due. “That would be awesome,” I lie.

Dr. Morales gets me set up for a payment plan, then pulls out a sheet of paper with my degree plan. “This is a contract of sorts with the university,” she tells me. “It basically says, if you take and pass all of these courses, they will award you the History degree with Teacher Certification. Once you hit your junior year, you’ll have to meet with the Teaching department, too. State requirements get a little complicated, so I let them deal with all that, but I’ll still see you for your overall advisory appointments.”

She has me sign the document, then scans it and gives me a copy. “Teaching requires you to be a jack of all trades, but if you’re interested, there are several elective slots you can use for history classes that can give you a concentration in a certain time period, which will help a lot if you ever decide to come back and get a master’s.”

I sigh. “At this point, I’ll just be amazed if I make it through this degree, honestly.”

Nita smiles sympathetically. “Don’t give up. My parents died right in the middle of my BA and I had to take on a ton of part time work to keep my sisters fed, but now look at me. I’m living the glamorous life of a professor sharing an office with some dude who thinks the only important war was World War Two.”

I laugh, and she smiles. “Don’t give up, Red. It seems daunting, but just taking the steps puts you ahead of so many other people. Don’t get bogged down by the big picture. Get through this semester. Keep your eyes on what is in front of you right now, not what the next four years will require. I’ll help you collect the hours. You’ll get this degree done.”

“I’ll be sure to remember you when I’m making all those big bucks in public education,” I tease.

Nita chuckles. “That’s the spirit. Now, on a serious note. I’ve totally been where you are. Come and see me if you need help. Don’t let things fester and get out of control. The earlier, the better.”

I nod.

“Well, welcome to our weird dysfunctional university family, Red. Can’t wait to see you Tuesday.”

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