Taking it one challenge at a time

INSET: (left) Ms Petra Crosby, the Director of the International Student program, and a group of international students waiting in front of Guthrie Theater in the Twin Cities to see Othello. (right) Adipong Brickshawana sitting in his room on campus

Willis Hall, home of the Economics and Sociology/Anthropology departments.

When I took my Microeconomics final examination as a freshman at Carleton College, I was literally on foreign ground, the only Thai in a class of twenty or so American students.

My professor came into our classroom with the exams in one hand and a basket of cookies in the other. She passed out both, announced that she would be upstairs in her office, and left. Of course, she stopped by a couple of times, and we could always phone her. Other than that however, we were totally unsupervised, yet no one cheated. Being used to teachers breathing down my neck in exam halls, such trust was unfamiliar to me.

The task itself was more familiar. It was another exam like the countless others I took in school. The only difference was that I had to take it in Northfield, Minnesota, a place probably as far away from home as I can be on this spherical Earth.

My freshman year at Carleton, last year, was much like this exam: taking it a challenge at a time, with some fun along the way.

The entrance to the college with Skinner Memorial Chapel in the background – TR

Getting into Carleton was the first challenge. Interestingly, it all started with a Spanish food sale in my junior year at Ruamrudee International School. I really was just looking for a poster, some markers, and a tape to make a sign for the sale when I wandered into the counseling office. Before I could even ask for the supplies, my counselor virtually dragged me into his office and introduced me to a representative from Carleton who just happened to be visiting.

Later in my senior year, the colleges and universities I applied to replied with some rejections and some acceptances. I was delighted that Carleton was one of the colleges that accepted me. Through the generous donation of the Starr foundation, Carleton also offered me the Starr Scholarship, a package that meets the financial needs of around twelve international students yearly. The scholarship would be renewed annually provided I was able to maintain a good academic standing and I participated in the Cross-Cultural Studies concentration.

After much consideration, I accepted Carleton’s offer.

The view from Adipong’s balcony.

My first sight of Northfield confirmed my decision. Surrounded by seemingly endless fields of corn and wheat on gentle rolling hills, Northfield is a medium-sized town with a population of approximately 17,800 people. It’s located along the Cannon River about 45 minutes south of the Twin Cities of Minneapolis and St. Paul. On one side of the river is the hill of St. Olaf College. On the other side next to Division Street, the main street in town, is Carleton.

Campus scenery

For many people, this quiet, tranquil town might feel too isolated from the rest of the world. For me, this town of “Cows, Colleges, and Contentment,” as declared on its welcome sign, is a fitting match, for I was looking forward to a change from busy Bangkok.

As the taxi toured the 90 acre campus with a 400 acre arboretum as the backdrop, I could hardly believe that Carleton, with its massive endowment of $470 million as of June 30, 2002, began as a small preparatory school in 1866. Today, famed for its dedicated faculty and its exceptional standard of education, Carleton College is ranked as the fourth best liberal arts college in the United States according to US News and World Report.

Unlike a university, Carleton, has smaller classes, a student-to-faculty ratio of only 11:1, and a focus exclusively on education at the undergraduate level. Specifically, it focuses on a liberal arts education, aiming to develop well-rounded individuals by offering a solid, general education rather than a professional or occupational one. Students are required to focus on one particular major in their last two years.

Nourse Hall, Adipongs’ campus home, is considered to be the best dorm on campus.

My parents and I arrived on campus a little bit early for the International Student Orientation, a seven day buffer designed to assist international students in settling in.

The orientation was a great opportunity to get to know the other international students. Coming from many different countries, and being fluent in several languages, most of the thirty or so students had very solid academic backgrounds. Several students had taken the International Baccalaureate diploma or an equivalent advanced programme. Particularly amazing was their multitude of talents, ranging from a skilful pianist to a black-belt in karate.

Before the orientation really got underway, my parents had to leave. I was not used to being away from them for long, so overcoming homesickness would be a challenge. With time, and by making weekly phone calls, I got used to it. Moreover, as a professor told me over a dinner during the orientation, the professors here would give me enough work so that I would not have time to be homesick.

Indeed, the academic rigor at Carleton is a challenge. Taking an average of three classes in each of the three ten-week terms in one year appears deceivingly undemanding. The truth is that most classes here cover a vast amount of knowledge. In English Literature I alone, I read Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, The Canterbury tales, Petrarchan poems, Ben Johnson poems, The Faire Queen, Twelfth Night, and Paradise Lost. The speed of the class was incredibly fast, but we still managed to cover these texts in appreciable depth.

The workload is copious! On average, the homework for each of the seventy minute classes takes at least three hours. My first homework assignment for Microecon on a Monday included writing a one page paper, preparing a ten minute group presentation, and reading the first two chapters of the textbook – all to be completed by class time on Wednesday.

Mudd Hall of science, home to the Chemistry and Geology department where Adipong spent so much time that his friends said he lived in this building.

The amount and depth of material that we cover require that the professors be very effective in communicating with students. Indeed, some of the professors here come up with the most amazing ways to teach. My biology professor showed us a rather humorous video clip of a cochlear hair cell dancing to hard rock music to point out that the hair cells in the ear respond to sound. Just last term, my organic chemistry professor made us hum America the Beautiful while he sang a modified version of the song outlining the details of the Grignard reaction. He sang particularly loud the verse “from C to shining C” to emphasise that the reaction can connect two hydrocarbon chains.

Due to the small classes, the professors are also generally available to respond to questions during and outside of their regular office hours. It is not uncommon for them to also have review/question sessions before exams, even on weekends.

To assist with the heavy workload, extra help is always available – but the student has to ask. Getting off to a terrible start in my writing seminar class, I learned this lesson the hard way. Although I went over my papers with the professor, my grades did not improve. In despair, I kept telling myself that this professor simply does not like the way I write.

Scoville Hall houses an office of academic support

By mid-term, I decided to discuss the situation with my academic advisor. In an eye-opening meeting, she told me that instead of being obsessed with the idea that the professor dislikes my writing, I should ask myself how I can make my writing appeal to this particular reader. Stopping my fixation on the problem, she put me in a frame of mind conducive to solving it. She further suggested that I get extra help from a staff member at the Academic Support Center. With his help over the balance of the term, my grades dramatically improved and I escaped disaster.

Carleton also offers support in other areas. Most students taking a math course know about the Math Skills Center and especially about its director. He has a tremendous amount of knowledge in mathematics and can sit down in a one-on-one discussion with students to help them with their homework, even at night and sometimes on weekends. Some classes also offer twice-a-week sessions conducted by students who have already taken the class and performed well.

Even with Carleton’s academic support system, I still find the task of managing the workload exceedingly difficult. Striking an adequate balance between work and play can be challenging.

Some of my friends can cope amazingly well with doing a lot of both. They participate in the numerous student organisations on and off campus and lead fairly active social lives, attending some of the weekly parties held in students’ rooms, which may include heavy drinking and smoking. When it is time to work however, they can also be very productive, doing well in most of their classes.

Their excessive energy can sometime be the result of excessive consumption of Red Bull. A senior, who last year lived in the same dorm as me and who likes to work under pressure, left the mammoth task of writing out her Comps (Carleton’s version of the senior thesis) to the last minute. To finish it, she drank three cans of Red Bull and pulled several all-nighters. Performing fabulously at Carleton, she is currently doing graduate work in an ivy-league school on a full scholarship.

Sayles Hill, the centre of campus life, home to student mailboxes and the snack bar.

Apart from the academic and campus life of Carleton, I also have to deal with the challenge of adjusting to the people in a different culture. Generalising about everyone I have met thus far is impossible, but I can say with confidence that I have met many individuals who are friendly and pleasant. My friends are, of course, great company. I can recall many occasions when I hung out with them too long over dinner, procrastinating. Off campus, people may smile at me for no particular reason, and cars amazingly do stop when I need to cross the road.

I once read that this friendliness of the people in the US is mainly superficial. One incident here made me understand why someone might make such an observation. The ladies who check my card in the dining halls are generally really nice and often greet me with a “Good morning” followed by a “Thank you.” Once, however, I had to run to an exam at 12:00 and the dining halls opened at 11:45. I asked the lady who worked that day if I could get into the dining hall a little early to have lunch. She declined, and when I explained that I had an exam soon, she flatly said that it was not her problem. I realised then that this particular lady was only kind in her role of checking cards, but that I should not expect anything beyond that.

This event was but one incident and in no way sets a standard. I can recall how kind my work supervisor was when I needed to buy a damper for my violin. On that day, not knowing where the shop was, I asked her for directions. Realising that I would have to walk for at least an hour to get there, and although I did not even ask her, she stopped what she was doing and offered me a ride saying that she needed the break anyway.

Winter scenery

Since this event happened during winter, the walk would have been particularly nasty, for the coldness of a Minnesotan winter is legendary. During fall, people who experienced the winter before told me spine-chilling stories about how cold it could be. One story said that, if you spit, the spit would freeze before it reached the ground. Another story said that you can actually feel the veins on your face freeze when there is a strong wind.

Luckily, by Minnesotan standards, my first winter was mild with the lowest temperature of around minus 30^o Celsius.

Minnesota is also famous to most foreigners for its bland food. Being used to Thai food, the blandness was a challenge. The dining halls generally offer healthy and clean food, but on one occasion, the fried chicken was so tasteless and dry that my friend said it was a waste of chicken.

During the winter and spring break, the dining halls are closed, and I have to cook myself. The summer before I came here, my parents gave me a crash course in cooking, but I was a slow learner. On the first Sunday of my break, I decided to make stir-fried rice. Since I was not used to cooking with the rice here, I added too much water, and my stir-fried rice came out very close to being a soup. After that first winter, I had a new-found appreciation for the food in the dining halls.

But as I was taking my Microecon final, none of these events were on my mind. I simply picked up the exam and looked through it. Then, it was just one challenge at a time – answering the questions one by one, double-checking my answers and going off to my next exam.

FROM LEFT: Lyman Lakes – TR; Laurence McKinley Gould Library – TR; The Admissions Office; Goodsell Observatory