Old college transcript embarrasses me again

I applied for a job this week that required that I include my college transcript with my application. Digging through my job applications file folder, I pulled out my last copy of my transcript, wondering what possible value a potential employer could find in the grades I made 40 years ago. I paused long enough to scan through the list of courses and grades and once again felt embarrassed that I had been so slack in my youth.

I could understand the C's I got (and was pretty grateful for) in the required math courses. My high school math preparation had been poor, and the university was going through a transition in math requirements, which stuck me in calculus my first semester on campus. I recalled a couple of other courses that were arduous, and I earned C's in them. But I also saw C's in courses that should not have been difficult. Even some writing courses, which should have been my strength, ended in C's. I did get A's and B's in other writing courses, but the C's in two writing courses are inexplicable to me. I recall little about those courses, what articles or stories I handed in or why I had failed to reach my potential. It's particularly embarrassing.

Last week I read an intriguing article about how the UNC School of Journalism and Mass Communications was changing its curriculum in the midst of head-spinning changes in newspapers and other media. One paragraph in the story noted that the school required students to maintain a 2.9 grade-point average.

It's a good thing such a standard was not in place when I was an undergraduate. I and most of my fellow journalism students would have been banished from the building. The average undergraduate GPA, if I remember correctly, was well below 2.5 at the time. I remember being told that the state's highly rated law schools required a minimum 2.5 GPA. Now, I suspect 3.5 is closer to that threshold. I graduated thinking that my B-minus average was respectable, at least. I took some pride in having no grade below a C. Grade inflation has made the grades of my generation disreputable, and I can take some comfort in that.

But a perusal of my old transcript still leaves me embarrassed. I was capable of better work, but I had fallen under the influence of older students whose philosophy was, "You get the same diploma with a 2.0 as you do with a 4.0, so why work yourself to death? Have fun!" And I did. I took a couple of courses on a pass/fail basis simply because that allowed me to slack off in those courses. Skipping a class on a cool fall afternoon or a warm spring day was a manifesto of student rights in those heady days, never mind that you might miss some valuable learning.

About a decade after graduation, I returned to college classes at Atlantic Christian College, primarily because I wanted to take advantage of my GI Bill educational benefits before they expired. Although I was working full-time and was married with three children, I found more time to concentrate on studies. I was also inoculated from the allure of comely coeds and the appeal of pickup basketball or football games. I took eight courses and earned seven A's and one B (in math-heavy Statistics). I'd like to think that those grades are more of a testimony to my abilities as a student, but I also recognize that those later grades don't cancel the under-achievement from an earlier decade.

Old transcripts can be embarrassing

One of the adventures entailed in searching for a new job at my age is the reality of what you did, didn't do and should have done 40 years earlier. One job application asked for my college transcript. I once had a college transcript. I know I had seen it at some time in the previous 37 years. But I didn't have a copy. I had to order one.

Meanwhile, in filling out the job application, I had to guess at my grade point average. I came within five-hundredths of getting it right. I remembered it being at least five hundredths better than it actually was. Once I received the transcript, I read down the list of grades, repeatedly thinking, I got a C in that! Or I should have had an A in that! But I didn't. I did, however, enjoy my four years of college between the ages of 18 and 22.

Twelve years later, when I took eight courses toward a never-completed degree as I used up my GI Bill benefits, I did considerably better. My GPA was more than a full grade higher than it had been my first time through college classes. There were several reasons for this. First, the tuition, books and fees were coming out of my own pocket (although Uncle Sam kicked in enough that I actually came out ahead — but I needed that money to support my family). Second, I was married (with three children). I didn't spend half my class time wondering whether the co-ed in the next aisle would go out with me or who would be my date for Saturday's football game. When I was 20 years old, there were just too many distractions. Third, I had actually matured in the intervening dozen years. I took tasks more seriously. I gave studies a higher priority, and I considered doing well more important than I had the first time around. As only the second of my family to attend college, I thought a college degree, regardless of GPA, was a guaranteed ticket to success. I gave no thought to graduate school, and with a low draft number hanging over my future, I didn't think about better grades' potential impact on future job opportunities. I had also come under the influence of  students whose philosophy was "you get the same diploma whether you have a 2.0 (the minimum for graduation) or a 4.0. So why work yourself to death getting a 4.0?"

And there's also grade inflation. When I was an undergrad in the late 1960s, the student newspaper did a story about a graduating senior who had made only one B all four years; all other grades were A's. He had the highest GPA at the university. These days, scores of graduates walk across the podium with 4.0 GPAs. In those days, a 2.5 was a respectable GPA. A 3.0 was very good, and a 3.5 was stratospheric. These days, many colleges' average grade is above 3.0.

All of this comes under the heading of "if I had known then, what I know now ...". If I had, I would have studied harder, taken advantage of more of the academic opportunities the university offered and partied less.

Except ... I met my wife at a party, and no boost to my GPA would have been worth missing out on that serendipitous fortune.