A Liberal Education-Not A Treatise but a Memoir

I remember when I told my mom and dad that I wanted to attend the University of Texas at Austin. I had been offered a full scholarship at a small Lutheran college and they couldn't understand why I would want to choose such a huge university when the other school would have been free. Now I understand their thinking, free versus not free. Well, at that point in 1970 tuition was $500 a semester plus room and board. The first thing, though, that my dad said was, "you do realize that that school is very liberal." Liberal, schmiberal. What did I care. I was going to THE CITY! No, I said. It's UT I want.  I wanted to get AWAY from small town life. If you wanted Italian food, you ate it out of a can (Chef Boyardee and I were good friends). If you wanted Chinese, that's right, out of a can. I didn't want to drive an hour and a half to go shopping. I had taken the SAT and ACT and had done Ok but nothing to write home about. As you know, one criteria of the acceptance process is what percentile you are in your class. You needed to be in the top 10%. Well, golly, I was 3rd in my class, out of thirty! When I told my parents that I had been accepted, they were ecstatic but leery. Remember those liberals? My first semester was in Sept. of 1970. We were in the throes of the Vietnam war. Riots on campuses, riot police. And here I am. The small town girl who doesn't no shit from shinola. Yes, I had, maybe, if my memory is correct, inhaled, but I don't remember (we actually had a "paraphernalia" shop within walking distance from our apartment) . What I do remember is my first day of classes. I make my way to an English class of some kind, seat myself, and before you know it, a Black Panther comes screaming into the room. Oh gentle youthful readers. I am not talking about the feline black panther. Read more...