AMY ROE
in a quiet place in Finland.
By SANDRA LING
GENEVA - Imagine repeating your senior year in a country whose
language you neither speak nor understand.
Most graduating seniors cling tightly to their diplomas and rarely look
back at high school. But not Amy Roe.
This 19-year-old recently returned to Geneva after an 11 1/2-month stay
in Finland as part of the Rotary International Exchange program.
The '96 Geneva High School graduate chose to postpone her college
plans in favor of a year-long sabbatical that left her with memories to
last a lifetime.
"When my mom first suggested trying an exchange program, I was a
little hesitant," Roe said. "Then the more I thought about it,
I realized
what a great adventure it could be."
Roe then applied and was interviewed several times before being
selected for the program.
The application process included a selection from the available
countries featured in the Rotary program. While Roe would have
preferred an English speaking country, she was eager to travel to
Scandinavia and made Finland her first choice, she said.
Auntie Em,
it's time to start seeking a college
A Jim Waid column
The wind is starting to pick up as the deadlines loom ever closer. It
could possibly be described as the way Dorothy felt when, knowing that
the twister was spinning on a collision course toward Uncle Henry's
homestead, she ran feverishly through the place she called home
searching frantically for the aunt who had seemingly forgotten her.
It would seem to us that had Dorothy simply listened to the local
meteorologist broadcasting out of Topeka, instead of the fraudulent
fortuneteller that she did patronize, she would have known that running
away was not a good idea, even though it did mean putting the life of
her beloved Toto in the hands of the deadly Miss Gulch.
Of course, as any self-respecting historian would know, there were few
radios in early 20th century Kansas and televisions were little more
than the fare of science fiction novels.
But we do have televisions today, and it seems that every time we turn
one on (or for that matter, listen to the radio, our parents, teachers,
school counselors, janitors, waiters or anyone else that has the ability
to
phonate) we are inundated with the horrible truth that is the very
essence of our transition into young adulthood, the chilling facts of life
that haunt us every day as our graduation from high school draws near:
we must decide upon which college we want to attend and we must
decide soon.
Because, and brace yourselves for this, many times the university that
you do choose can mean the difference between success and failure.
Of course, wanting to get into a college and actually being accepted are
two completely separate and distinct entities. While, on one hand, you
may think that you are the perfect candidate for your cherished college
of choice, the admissions officers may think otherwise. That is where
the dreaded application comes in.
Of course the major purpose of the college application is to separate the
students with the greatest possible chance of post-college graduation
success from those who simply plan to use their secondary education as
a thinly veiled excuse to indulge in drunken excesses and wild all-night
orgies.
But I firmly believe that the second intention of the application is to
exact the greatest amount of torture upon the applicant as possible.
What else would request that you compile all of the accomplishments
that you have ever achieved, jobs you have ever held, awards you have
ever won and then have the audacity to ask you to answer (in 3-page
essay form) such horrendously generic questions as "what motivated
you to choose the area that you are planning to major in," and actually
expect a completely original response?
And then, after that, (to add insult to injury) ask you to dole out $35
and up of your parents hard-earned money to pay for it?
It doesn't end there, either. Especially in the cases of those children
who
stray from the flock and choose to go undermine the educational plans
that their parents have always held in front of them (medicine or law)
and choose to pursue a career in the arts. In this case, the applicant,
often already terribly overwhelmed, must either put together a portfolio
of the his or her talent, or in the case of someone entering the
performing arts, memorize monologue upon monologue that will
succeed in dazzling all that reside on the admissions board as well as
anyone else who will possibly, at some time or another, have the
opportunity to hear it.
But then it's time to rest, right? No. We must wait and worry, wring our
hands every day as we get the nerve to open the mailbox, in the slight
chance that THE letter will be sitting there, taunting us with its
omnipotent ability to determine our fates.
Unfortunately, I'm speaking in the future tense. I, for one, have not sent
in ANY of my applications (I haven't even firmly decided upon my
second and third college choices yet). Maybe I just have no stamina. It's
true that I've never cared much for deadlines (or maybe deadlines just
never cared much for me - Ha HA) And it's also kind of strange,
*yawn* but the more I tell myself that I have to start picking up my
pace, the more I feel a strange calm overcoming me, it's all the more
often that my eyelids seem to be drooping with fatigue. I could almost
swear that someone has, um, gone, and, what was I saying? Oh yeah,
gone and, uh, and cast a, cast a spell...........ZZZZzzzzzzzz.
"Now my beauties. Something with poison in it I think. With poison.
But attractive to the eye and soothing to the smell. Poppies. Poppies.
Poppies will put them to sleep. Sleep. Now they'll sleep."
Waid worries he will fall asleep in one of his Grand Valley High School
classes and wake up in a college class and not know where he is.
This is Josh "World Wrestling Federation Groupie"
Roloson. He's only
17 and a senior at Ashtabula High School.
When he escapes from high school, he'd like to go into broadcasting.
Preferably something sports-related since Josh idolizes Chicago Cubs'
announcer Harry Caray, he says.
He also likes WWF's Stone Cold Steve Austin and thinks the Atlanta
Braves have a really good pitching staff.
If you'd like to feed Josh, his favorite meal would be marinated chicken
breast, rice, corn-on-the-cob and cheesecake. Yum.
Not bad taste, Josh.
Yo Josh, if you are finished admiring your photo, you and your
contemporaries may want to read further.
Plan to head to Conneaut High School Saturday night.
There'll be lots of that wrasslin action, with six matches featuring those
gentle guys, the Nasty Boys. Also check out the Bushwhackers and
Head Shrinkers. Hey, and Hooters girls from the Erie restaurant will
escort the guys to the ring.
Must be because Erie is a hoot and a holler away.
Proceeds benefit the school's Model United Nations Club, a co-sponsor.
Tuxedos are optional at the event. It happens at 8 p.m. Be there or be
sane.
For those of you upset with our poetry cessation,
Here's something that will cause you elation,
It's back and it's teen made,
Now under the direction of Jim Waid.
Send your submissions to Waid at 6688 State Route 45, Orwell 44076
or e-mail .
Oh, and we're tired of rhyming.