little man shockey's first semester grades

He's at Ole Miss, right? Or did I just pull that out of the ether?

Trust me, this is a common occurrence there, though that doesn't make it acceptable.

I'd have been thrilled with those grades my first semester, during which I had a blast and did virtually no work. I was way more interested in tailgating in the Grove and getting shitfaced at the Phi Delt house.

It took me a while to get it together, but I eventually did.

Feel free to PM me if you want any advice.

 

The rules in my house were simple from my mom: Go to class, and make good grades, and she would pay for it. If either my brother or I started dropping classes or started failing, we had to take the bill.

I never dropped a class (although I should have dropped one) and graduated in four years without going to summer school. Did it while working full-time at my old paper and with a girlfriend/fiancee an hour and a half away.

But in all honesty, it depends on the kid. Shockey, you know your son better than anyone. How are his study habits? How were his grades in high school? His habits and ability in high school should translate pretty well into college.

I'd say make this semester his one warning, and if things don't improve in the Spring, hand him the bill. Of course, when my mom told my brother he had to start paying for school (after going seven years with no finish in sight), he quit.

 

shotty, fair enough. At least first semester.

But by sophomore, junior, senior year when I knew I had to pull my head out of my ass to do anything right, I'd have appreciated the time to actually research a paper.

 

If it's necessary, lay down the law and say to him that he'll need to start helping to pay for college if his grades don't improve. You figure you're average three credit course at a typical state university costs between $800-$950. Discuss some sort of plan that he'll need to achieve a certain grade or higher, if he doesn't, he'll have to pay back a fraction of the cost for that class.

 

Honestly, I'm not sure why this line of thinking persists. Nothing against Shockey or anyone else, but my parents didn't know shit about what I was up to by the time I got to college. I'm sure they had their suspicions, of course. But I guarantee they didn't know much about how I was doing outside of what I told them. Even when I was living at home and commuting, they left for work before I woke up and I got home from the paper after they went to bed. There treated me well, but they left me alone. It was up to me to go to class, up to me to go to work, up to me to live my life. They didn't ask about anything, and I didn't tell.

My parents were involved, were supportive and were always there when I asked for help. But I only asked for help once. Once.

I have no doubt that Shockey and Mrs. Shockey are involved, supportive and always there for their kids.

But let's not equate that with "knowing your kid better than anyone." That's not necessarily a given, especially if the kid is out of the house. A lot depends on the relationship, and just because you have a good relationship with your parents doesn't mean they really know what's going on.

 

My dad asked me what my major was in the summer before my senior year. It was always mass communication; I just added a journalism to broadcasting as a sophomore. They knew the least about me.

I don't know how things in your house work, Shockey, but if my parents threatened me with a community college, it wouldn't motivate me -- at least not for long. I might work harder, but I'd resent them every step of the way -- even if, looking back, I knew it was for my own good.

The first semester is tough; think about your first one. I got a 1.9 with 17 credit hours. I failed a computer course because I didn't go to a couple classes and didn't follow through on a project. The rest of the grades were mediocre at best. The next year -- with no prompting from my parents -- I raised my GPA to a 2.6, then higher each semester. I scored a 3.61 during my final semester and finished with a 3.2 or so. (I retook the computer course and a journalism class; had to turn that B to an A.)

I did it because I wanted to succeed. That's the only way it was going to happen.

Threatening to yank him out of school is not only rash, but really seems short-sighted wouldn't be in his future's best interest. Give the kid some time to adjust. Sociology was really tough for me, too. I got a C in it. Of course, that's partly because I fell asleep during the three-hour class and often went outside to call my girlfriend in the middle of the lecture (it was the only time her sorority wasn't around, and I was dumb). He's got to figure things out on his own. Only then will he grow up to be the person you want him to -- and know he will -- become. You've got to let this kid fly alone.

 

Man, I wouldn't trade my parents for everything in the world, but it would have been cool to live for a day under a roof where they didn't know where I was at all damn times. If I farted in the bedroom, my dad in the basement asked what was going on. I once got grounded for missing curfew...by six minutes. At 11 pm. Granted, it was a Sunday, but it was SUPER BOWL SUNDAY 1991. You'd think dad would have understood why I was a little late coming back from that one.

And my parents had an uncanny sense for sniffing out trouble, even the piddly shit my sister and I created. When I was 17, I had these AWFUL glasses. I mean, just fucking awful. The class nerds would have beaten my ass if they ever saw me in these. I'd never wear them, even while driving. Yet one day, I get home and my mom says "If I ever see you driving without your glasses again, you'll never drive another day under my roof." WTF?!

My parents bought a car for my sister when I went to community college, and she'd often let her boyfriend do the driving. Once, we went to a concert (in separate cars). My sister called home to let them know she was there and my mom says "Corey better not be driving home." Again: WTF?! It was unfuckingcanny. A word of this, BTW, was never spoken again.

When I was a HS junior, I had a couple stupid weekends in which a couple friends and I would chuck eggs from our cars (stupid, stupid, stupid). Of course, I'd never tell my folks this. "Oh we're just going to so-and-so's house," I'd say. Well, one weekend, we actually DID go to so-and-so's house. And my mom called that house, b/c she suspected we were out being shitheads. Except I was actually there, muahahahahaaaaaaaa!

These stories are good for laughs now, but the freedom I felt when I left for college was unlike anything I'd ever felt before. Of course, six weeks in, my sister got in a terrible car wreck, and then I understood why my parents were the way they were.

 

No offense meant to you or yours, but I feel bad when I hear people express thoughts like that. I don't think that's healthy at all.

Then again, I'm not a parent so what do I know. 8)

 

If your kids don't feel some sense of freedom upon fleeing the nest, buck, THEN there's a problem.

 

Why? I didn't/don't mind. OK, maybe I did when I was 16, 17, 18, 19. It was no fun hanging out friends who could come and go as they please and having to convince them to pull over and find a pay phone to see if I could stay out til 12 or 1, or heading home while everyone else was doing God only knows what. But in retrospect, it made me feel as if I'd really earned the freedom of college (albeit on their bill), and maybe nudged me towards going out of state (which turned out to be the best thing I've ever done) instead of just going to a state school back home.

And like I said, my sister's car accident also made me appreciate where my parents were coming from. I wish that hadn't happened, of course, but I realize they weren't being overprotective just to screw us around.

 

And I should mention my dad wasn't COMPLETELY crazy. Curfew got pushed back every year. Not like I was ordered back at midnight when I was 19. It was 3 am on the weekends by the time I went away. And once I went away, the curfew was gone.

 

Did junior pass the Bud Final? (12 multiple choice questions, no partial credit)