Learning Disabilities - Part 2

     Page Thirty-Eight.
     So she wrote the letter. Jeannie knew how to write those letters too. She'd had much experience in that department as you can imagine. That letter had flower petals and glitter enclosed. That letter was scented with Chanel #5. That letter was delivered to the front office of Cleveland State University by a scantily clad, beautiful, buxom blonde. It was that good.
     And then, there was my letter. If I must say so myself, I know how to get my point across with the written word. I'm no Faulkner, but in contemporary America, if you could, right sentence which reasonable is gramaticall corect, you insantly a head of game. I can do that. So Jeannie's letter was about my inability to think, while my letter was about the CSU guidance counselor who suggested there might be some underlying problem and how CSU might be able to help. I don't get assertive often. I find that it takes expends energy which I'd rather spend watching TV. But every once in a while, I will actually let my needs known.In my letter I requested that four "F's" be removed from my transcripts; I asked for removal of the college math requirement; and, I asked for removal of the college foreign language requirement. There's only one word for this: Chutzpah.
     The letters ended up on a very large, heavy, oblong, oak conference table in an upper floor office around which sat the president and vice president of the university along with the committee who makes big 'ole decisions. Apparently, nobody had ever asked for such a complete overhaul of university requirements and adjustments in the history of CSU.
     A quick word about CSU: In greater Cleveland, most people think of CSU as an extension of high school - little more than a community college. The only Clevelanders who think CSU is a good school are business and civic leaders and professors and staff of CSU and other area colleges. The reasons for this disconnect are many. CSU's liberal acceptance program make it possibly for anyone to get in, and I mean anyone. Then, there's the big concrete campus which isn't attractive. The complete lack of college life doesn't help. Almost all the student are commuter, and/or older, and/or poorer, and/or first generation college attendees, and/or working in addition to studying. Are you getting the picture?
     The reasons that important Clevelanders behind the scenes like the school are equally many. The 78% drop out rate implies that it's a real school. The commuter/older/etc. thing means that anybody who does graduate really works hard. And, CSU professors are really great. Many former business leaders retire and teach there. (I once took a business class which was taught by a former senior executive of BP Oil.) Also, we had many Rhodes Scholars and other such famous teachers on faculty. One of my profs was the 7th most heavily published researcher in the world in his field (Family Communications). In short, in Cleveland,  if "Graduate of Cleveland State University" appears on a resume it's taken seriously by HR people, but not by the graduate's friends or acquaintances.
     Incidentally, this is slowly changing. In the last ten or fifteen years CSU has built many new dorms and torn down much of the concrete, building new grass and trees in it's place. The greener campus is growing quickly and attracting more students from out of town. It's reputation in the liberal arts is growing nationally.
     Now, getting back to my ballsy letter... they gave me everything I asked for, under certain conditions. They removed the four "F's" no problem. But in exchange for removing the math requirements I needed to take many extra science classes. And, in exchange for removing the foreign language requirement... extra anthropology. Well, I was thrilled. I'd actually be able to graduate. Who woulda thunk it? I wasn't the least bit phased by the extra science because I'd already taken enough science classes to fulfill their silly, old demands. And, I only needed to take a little more anthro to meet that requirement as I'd already taken extra because I enjoyed it so much. I would eventually hear through the grapevine that administration adjusted my transcripts and requirements more than any other person's in University history. I was a bit impressed by my own assertiveness but more importantly I began planning my graduation party.
          Which party I did have in June of 1992. September '82 - June '83 & September '86 - June '92... sort of the seven year plan I guess you could call it. But by the time you include all the flunked classes and lightest workload full-time ('cause I was a live-in nanny and increasingly busy freelance hairdresser) it really does work out. (Have you ever gone to school full-time while working full-time? It's not easy.)
     Let me interject right here for a moment: the Shapiro boys knew how much I studied and they knew how hard I worked in school. They used to tease me and say that if I ever actually had cracked a book open I could've gotten a free ride in Harvard. They were pretty much the only people who knew how little I worked in school. 
     So that was how I was diagnosed with learning disabilities as a senior in college. Fascinatingly, I'd be back in school faster than Bill Clinton at a rib eating competition. And, it would be almost twenty years before I'd find out what really happened.
      To be continued...