I enjoyed a cordial relationship with all of my roommates and instantly had a set of friends with whom to go out in the evenings when I was not with Neil. He returned home for a family vacation during the summer while I worked persistently on my literature research. His parents did not invite me to join them, which made me feel excluded; although I could not have afforded the fare to Europe. Neil admitted that he would have preferred to stay at school with me, but his parents still paid his bills, and Neil was completely dependent on them. They may have accepted his desire to miss the trip, but Neil lacked the fortitude to face them with his own choices. He might have feared being cut off from his parents’ generous gravy train which probably would not have happened, as they genuinely wanted him to get the best possible education.
After the initial physical attraction, Neil may have been intrigued by my independence, something he did not possess. I had ventured far from home to earn an advanced degree sustained by a modest assistantship salary. Neil’s family situation made this unnecessary for him, and he was probably content not to have to live the spartan existence of a self-supporting student. Given the option, I might have chosen Neil’s more comfortable circumstances. The hours I spent working, Neil could either invest in study for better grades, extracurricular activities, socializing, or hobbies. I always found time for a date, but my grades left plenty of room for improvement. Additional time and money could have also been appropriated for skating lessons. Of course, if Neil had wanted to skate as a child, his parents would have indulged the request. As much as I liked Neil, I occasionally found myself jealous or angry with him because he seemed to take his financial resources for granted.
Even though I missed Neil while he vacationed in Europe, I enjoyed the opportunity to learn about the academic and professional decisions made by other women my age. One girl, a rising senior in electrical engineering, spent the summer making up classes that she could not handle during the academic year. The other undergraduate majored in computer science and looked forward to lucrative employment as a programmer. A doctoral student in history, the third girl was just starting her research. We rarely saw our fourth housemate who spent every available moment completing her research in Materials Science to finish her master’s degree before starting law school in September. She planned to become a patent attorney.
Upon meeting these well-adjusted sensible women, my educational choices seemed misguided and impractical. A boyfriend urged me to take a sewing class because a skating dress I made as a precocious teenager impressed him. Then I hoped to become a fashion designer based on a childhood fascination with pretty clothes. Actually, most artistic people probably develop their interests early in life, but I had not proven myself as a creative genius. Grounded in the same juvenile fantasy, my decision to study Consumer Psychology was sparked by a job in a bridal salon.
Dr. Perez guided me toward a worthwhile assortment of courses to fill my major requirements and suggested that I continue to study statistics, marketing and human psychology as a doctoral student. She said a fundamental background in these subjects would make me more versatile in the academic and private sectors. Although she recommended that I consider an advanced degree in one of these fields rather than Consumer Studies, I feared my background in fashion and textiles left me unprepared and ill-qualified. I already had to work especially hard to succeed in an interdisciplinary program and doubted I could handle a more rigorous challenge. Unattached, I assumed I would simply move wherever necessary to accept an academic appointment in the consumer sciences after completing my doctorate.
During the summer, I became particularly friendly with the history student who, like me, hoped to become a professor. Yvette and I often ate dinner and watched television together in the common area of our apartment. Her influence caused me to develop an interest in history, and I passed empty hours reading historic literature, something I would have detested as a younger person. For all of two weeks, I considered taking a history class and changing the direction of my education entirely. Confused and dissatisfied, I believed a doctoral degree in Consumer Science from Carolina Tech would be the best compromise between my previous whimsical choices and newly discovered realism.
Planning to graduate mid-term, I had difficulty securing a living situation for the fall semester. Rental property in university towns usually leases on a yearly basis. Fortunate students who plan to spend the summer elsewhere may be able to find a nine or ten month academic year lease. However, sublets for the first semester are rare. Although I preferred to get an apartment with Yvette, when Neil invited me to stay with him, I decided to accept and avoid the problem of finding someone to take over my share of the lease in January. I absolutely could not risk being responsible for two rentals every month in the spring. Neil lived alone in a two-bedroom apartment. The second room housed his computer equipment and an extra bed for his parents’ occasional visits. He moved the computer into the living room and declared the second bedroom my personal space.
Finding my afternoon class cancelled, I decided to go home for lunch. Neil was still on campus, and I went into my room intending only to rest for a few minutes. I awoke a couple of hours later to the sound of Neil’s voice. Opening the door, I overheard something unpleasant as he spoke into the telephone.
“I’m not only applying to Carolina Tech because Kate is going there.”
I slipped back into the bedroom as I heard him say, “No, Mom, I don’t know if we're getting married.”
Resisting the temptation to press my ear to the door and let the conversation run its course, I took the noble route and emerged noisily from the room and greeted Neil in a cheerful tone.
A guilty expression passed over his face as though he had been caught with his finger in a freshly frosted birthday cake.
A few days later I nonchalantly said to Neil, “You don’t have to go to Carolina Tech. I plan to study there because the Consumer Science program is reasonably good and I can afford the tuition. ” A little bitterly, I added, “You don’t have to worry about things like that.”
“You heard me talking to my mother,” he assumed, ignoring or not noticing my last remark.
I admitted that I had overheard. Of course, she only wanted her son to get the graduate education best suited to his interests. Double majoring in computer science and physics, Neil decided to pursue graduate study in physics. He told me the department at Carolina Tech was well regarded, and he wanted to give our relationship an opportunity to flourish.
After expressing my concern that his parents did not approve of me living in the apartment, Neil insisted this bothered them less than the graduate school issue. My boyfriend ultimately decided to attend Carolina Tech; although he had another semester to complete on the five-year program at Virginia University after I finished my Master of Arts degree. He may not have defended his right to miss the European holiday, but he did assert himself when choosing a graduate school. I do not know how vigorously his parents may have protested. They did not necessary object to him making his own decision, but they probably would have preferred that he select from a pre-determined group of more prestigious universities. Neil also went out on a limb by offering me a convenient place to stay for a few months. For that, I was grateful and began to develop genuine respect for him as an autonomous individual.
Before Christmas, I walked onto an auditorium stage with Dr. Perez to receive my Master’s diploma. My family did not come to the ceremony, and I did not want to burden them with unnecessary travel expenses. They had seen me in a cap and gown only two and a half years before. Neil, Yvette and my other friends attended. Instead of celebrating with the students; I took my dear mentor, Dr. Perez, to dinner that evening. I would not have earned this degree without her. I would not have evolved as a human being without her loving influence. She retired the next May, and I was her last student.
As an undergraduate student, I lived at home and commuted to school for all but one semester of my college experience. I missed dormitory life, a rite of passage for many young adults. Before leaving for Northern Virginia with Neil at the beginning of the summer, I located a new roommate situation in an apartment complex designed specifically for students. Each unit consisted of four bedrooms that students could occupy individually or share. Two bedrooms flanked each side of a large central area that included a kitchen, dining space and living room. Located at the back of the common area, a compartmentalized bathroom allowed two people to use the dual sinks while another occupied the privy and a fourth showered in a separate chamber. Each unit resembled a miniature dormitory. I decided to rent one of the rooms for the summer and shared the apartment with four other young women all of whom were either upperclassmen or graduate students. I called the place “the Commune” because the five of us coexisted so peacefully. Actually, if viewed over time from the outside, the residence may have been mistaken for a house of ill repute with the boyfriends and dates of five healthy college girls coming and going.
My studies left little time for skating, but Neil and I attended a public session before the fall semester began. An asphalt jogging and bicycle trail, ideal for roller skating, wove through the park bordering Neil’s apartment complex. I had abandoned roller skating in crowded rinks but was still partial to skating outside on a path. I phoned my father and asked him to mail my ratty old department store skates. He confessed that he had thrown them away a few months before. Disappointed, I did not purchase another pair of roller skates. I had actually bought a new car, using the some of the money I saved working in the bridal salon, as a substantial down payment. Although Neil did not ask me to pay rent, I insisted upon at least contributing a nominal amount. Deciding I could not afford a good pair of skates and did not want cheap ones, I walked in the park instead.
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