substitute: (binky)
Hello:

I was a student at UCLA from 1983 to 1987. In 1987 I was dismissed for poor academic performance, which was sadly an accurate assessment.

I am close (I do not know how close) to a degree in English, and I am interested in readmission and in completing my Bachelor's degree.

According to http://www.registrar.ucla.edu/faq/readmissionfaq.htm there is an application. I have no other transcripts since 1987, so that won't be an issue.

What should I expect from the procedure, and what other information should I gather? I'm very interested in this but also a bit intimidated.

Thanks in advance,

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substitute: (smartypants)
My high school biology teacher was an original. Passionate about his subject, honest and plain-spoken, and invariably good-natured, he was a hero to me at the time. I was terrible at biology but I loved the ideas and I loved him.

He was a park ranger in the summers, and he took us out on field trips in, well, the fields to find out what our local ecosystem had to offer.

His experience stretched beyond life science. He had been a seminary student and on a serious track to the priesthood at one point, and he was also an expert in several Native American spiritual traditions. He wouldn't eat meat without apologizing to the animal, for example.

One day in class the subject of the occult somehow came up. I'm not sure, but I think it was related to a classmate of mine who scared the pants off herself with a ouija board. Some bit of aleatory coincidence made her think a dead relative was speaking and she flipped. Our teacher looked thoughtful at this and said "I have a story."
"When I was in the seminary, I had a lot of trouble with the idea of the Devil. I couldn't reconcile myself to the idea that an individual, some fallen angel, was permitted to exist and to hate us. And I couldn't wrap my mind around the dogma of evil, especially personified evil. My supervisor told me to fast and meditate about it and I did.

"So I didnt eat much at all, and prayed and meditated for three days. This is difficult and I do not suggest you do it yourself without a good reason and a supervisor. Near the end of the third day, I got up to go into the other room and there was someone sitting in there. He introduced himself as the Devil, and said he'd heard I wanted to know about him. He didn't look evil or have horns or anything. But it was clear somehow that he was the genuine article, you know. Not some prank.

"So I talked with the Devil for a few hours, and he explained his role to me, and why there was evil in the world. He himself didn't know why God permitted him, but he was quite serious about evil and his hatred for everyone. Very calm conversation, but obviously very chilling.

"And then he didn't leave. I hung around wondering what to do, and he just sat there. I realized then that the problem with inviting the Devil in is that he doesn't have to leave unless he wants to. I gave up on getting rid of him and went for a long walk, because that's solved so many problems for me. When I came back there was no Devil, and I had breakfast and went to sleep.

"And yes there is a moral to this story, right? Because there always is with me. Yeah, the moral is that you shouldn't play with things you can't understand or control. As much as it may look like a good idea, you're risking everything. And really it doesn't matter whether the Devil exists or I was hallucinating after all that fasting. In either case I couldn't get him to leave and it was terrifying.

"So, yeah. If the ouija board does that to you, leave it alone."
He had a picture on his wall of the Voyager message plaque, you know the one with the planet map and the humans and the symbols. The right-wing super-fundamentalist creationist smbiology teacher down the hall (yes, I know) got in the room one night and painted it over because it had nakeds on it. He also removed and destroyed the part of the anatomical charts that had genitalia on it. They had a little war, or rather the religioso waged war on my teacher. I think you can guess who won.
substitute: (1967)
What were the cliques at your high school or equivalent (ages 14 to 18)?

Clarification: This isn't a request for your particular affiliation or lack thereof; there's loads of quizzes and "memes" where you can relive that for good or for ill. I'm fishing for descriptions of the social groups from your teen years as you observed them, whether from the inside or the outside. It's a survey of environments: what were the groups you saw? If you weren't at anything like a school with social groups then, none of this really matters.

I went to an almost entirely white public school in a Southern California beach resort town from 1979 to 1983. Think Fast Times at Ridgemont High. So, mine were, in roughly hierarchical order:

Preppy/"Sosh" (rich pretty kids or those who could pass for rich, anyway): pink and green clothing, lots of chinos and khaki, cashmere sweater knotted around the neck, penny loafers.

Jock/Cheerleader (sports and beauty competition winners in the classic American vein)

Surfer (specific to my locale; not quite the same as jock: they were too obsessive about surfing to participate in much of anything else or deal with the hierarchy at all)

"Band-O": marching band members as obsessive social phenomenon

Theater club: actors singers dancers and technical theater types and wannabees

Pop Music Lifestyle Subculture: at the time this meant rockabilly revival kids, metalheads, and some of the new wave stuff.

Mods and Punks: this was the early 1980s, so a Mod Ska/The Jam flavored revival was going on, and punk was a seriously transgressive style that set you apart. the two groups were pretty interchangeable because they were scarier than the other pop music identities. The mods were always high on black beauties and the punks burned things and put safety pins in their noses.

Academic/geek/nerd. You know the drill. The straight A's crowd plus anyone who liked computers or Dungeons & Dragons and science fiction.

Stoner

Total outsider of some kind (doomed).

I'm interested for a few reasons. Subculture identities are multiplying, for one thing, and most of the pop music-related ones that have appeared in the last 20 years became permanent options on a kind of menu. And high school has a huge presence in American life. Some people spend their whole lives rebelling against the slights they got in their teens. Others don't ever move beyond the subculture they found then. If you know what clique an American middle-class person claimed at age 16, you know a lot about them right away.
substitute: (Default)
Via The Null Device, a wonderful set of suggested improvement for cheating from a professor at SUNY Buffalo. I hadn't realized this, but cut and paste is one of the new hazards for the cheater. Watch that formatting!
substitute: (filmstrip drug guy)
[livejournal.com profile] ch linked me to this marvelous antidrug filmstrip from the 1970s. I have so many memories of filmstrips from my grammar school education.

To start with they were the bastard stepchild of movies, which we all loved. On a Friday afternoon we'd hope for a movie. At a minimum there would be entertaining footage of animals or cool science stuff, and if we were lucky we'd convince the teacher to play the movie backwards when it was done for double the movie time and the unstoppable belly laughs we got from watching birds walk in reverse, etc. But if the filmstrip projector came out, we were getting second best. Someone would have to thread the filmstrip into the machine and then help out by pressing the advance button.

Filmstrips were always about the most boring topic available. I remember seeing one about Where Borax Comes From, several detailing How the Indians Ground Up Corn With Rocks, a whole series on How Erosion and Silt Change Our World, and maybe fifty different social science filmstrips about How Some People Live in Big Buildings and Others In Little Huts and related topics.

But the most frequent use of filmstrips was to tell us things the teachers didn't want to discuss. The nearest we got to sex education, for example, was an extremely medical strip about How Your Bodies Are Changing Now That You're 12 Or So, with terrifying closeups of peach fuzz stubble and line art of Your Head With Squiggly Red Lines Signifying Emotional Stress. There were separate filmstrips for girls and boys. It was incomprehensible. And of course the drugs ones. I'm not sure I saw this particular drug filmstrip, but we had several on Not Taking Stuff From Big Kids Because It Makes Question Marks Fly Out Your Nose, also known as If You Light Something On Fire and Put It In Your Mouth, You'll Grow a Leather Jacket and Die in a Car Crash.

I think nowadays teachers put in a videotape and dive under their desks when bad topics arise. But to this day when I hear an old antidrug speech I immediately go to that crappy narrator voice wobbling along with the tape, the piercing beep, and the hum of the fan on the filmstrip machine.

One day the teacher left it on too long on one frame while she explained something and the film caught fire. We all had to go outside while the Fire Department came to check it out. I got a face full of burning plastic film smoke and I was light headed for the rest of the day. Drugs are bad!

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