While I was in the shower this morning/afternoon, my daughter looked through my box of pictures. I guess she found a few things that caught her interest, because when I got back to my room, she looked at me and said “You never told me you were a writer.” Evidently, she had found a folder that contained some of the essays I wrote when I was in college. When I looked through the folder, I found the essay book that the professor had given us during the first class. It contains a very short, hand written essay – written by me – in it.

It was such a cute, and slightly funny piece of writing, that I read it out loud to my mother and daughter – including the notes the professor had written on it. After reading it to them, I decided that it might be fun to share part of my past here.

At that time in my life I was married, but separated from my first husband, and I had a seven month old baby boy. I was living in Phoenix, Arizona with my parents. My husband was in the Navy, which meant I had access to Luke Air Force Base. I had already spent a few months in a community college system in the area, and found out that they offered accelerated classes on the base.  I decided to take my English 101 class there. What follows is my first essay for that class, completed on the first night of class.

Human Sexuality

written August 13th, 1990

As usual, I am rushing around trying to get ready at the last minute. Finally, I got in my car and began speeding toward my destination – my first class in English 101. I am lucky to find a parking space up front. I proceed to park and run into the building to catch the elevator. So of course, since I am in a hurry, the elevator takes its own sweet time to arrive (teacher note: I think it was meant for a mortuary, not a combat support group)

When I finally manage to get to the correct floor, I stand in amazement at the various hallways I have to dash through to get to class on time. I repeat the room numbers to myself, safe in the knowledge it was close by. Finally, I have reached what appears to be my class. I walk swiftly to the back, pleased I arrived before the teacher. I sit down and start to relax. Then I notice, no one has the book I have. Surely, they can’t all have the wrong book. A dreadful thought appeared in my head. I could be in the wrong room. Tentatively, I asked someone what class I was in. Human Sexuality was the answer I received. Oh no! I was aiming for an English Class and ended up in a Human Sexuality Class! (teacher note: No Comment.)

Eventually to my relief I found my English Class. Of course, all my embarrassment could have been avoided if I wouldn’t always wait to the last minute to get ready to go anywhere.

(teacher note: Good start – This is a sprightly bit of writing and demonstrates good language skills, a sense of humor, and the ability to achieve in spite of pressure – perhaps a bit wordy, but on formal weekly essays you’s have time to revise.)

He gave me a B