NASHVILLE — News of the recent college-bribery scandal broke the same week the University of Tennessee announced it would be offering free tuition to Tennessee families earning less than ,000 a year. The announcement came the day my two younger sons were finishing up their U.T. midterms and packing to come back to Nashville for spring break, where home-cooked meals and a fair amount of yardwork awaited them.
My husband is a schoolteacher, and I work for a humanities nonprofit. This work will never make us rich, but we’re doing just fine, and the new tuition program at our sons’ university won’t affect us. But sending two children to college at once is still a stretch. Sometimes I think of the financial planner we hired when I was pregnant with our youngest child. We hadn’t started a college-savings plan yet and needed help sorting out the bewildering array of options. The financial planner looked at our paperwork, saw what we were earning, and said flatly, “You can’t afford to send three kids to college.”
But somehow we have. Our oldest, a history major, had his heart set on a liberal-arts college. We managed to make it work only because he lived at home for the first few years, and only because my mother died and left just enough money behind to put tuition within reach, if barely. But our son also worked at least 20 hours a week during the school year, and full-time every summer, and he paid for much of his education himself.
That small liberal-arts college ended up being a great choice for him, but my husband and I worried about what we’d do if his younger brothers, only two years apart in school, also wanted expensive private colleges. Fortunately, our middle son’s top choice was the University of Tennessee, which has a strong engineering program. Later, our youngest made the same choice, partly because he wanted to be in school with his brother again, and partly because he wanted a big university with a wide array of majors to explore.
The idea of a college search would have been foreign to me as a high-school senior. Of the two flagship state universities, I picked my mother’s alma mater and was admitted simply by having my ACT scores sent there. When I got to Auburn University in the fall of 1980, Pell Grants, work-study assignments and low-interest federal loans were still plentiful enough that students like me — people not impoverished enough or brilliant enough to earn a full ride — could nevertheless get a good education, even if their parents couldn’t afford to pay a dime. It never crossed my mind that I was “settling” for something less than an elite education. I was grateful beyond belief to be going to college at all.
How I wish I had the words, even now, to explain what a gift those years were. I took an overload almost every quarter because extra courses didn’t cost anything extra, and it was impossible to choose from among all the offerings. I wanted to learn everything, read everything, think about everything. And everything seemed to be right there for the taking on that rural campus in the piedmont of Alabama.
Some of my professors were boring, sure, and some were ancient cranks who hadn’t done a minute’s scholarship in decades. But most others opened their office doors, leaned back in their chairs and carried on the conversation long after class, as long as I still had questions. One professor conducted a one-student correspondence course by mail, just for fun, the summer before I was a sophomore. Another offered a bunch of us the guest quarters at her house in the country as a quiet place to study for exams. Still another convened a Latin literature class at 7 a.m., five days a week, because there were only four students in the whole university who wanted to read literature in Latin, and the university wouldn’t schedule a class for only four students. We all signed up for Latin as an independent-study course, and we met in that professor’s office where he taught us, unpaid, for nearly two years.
At Auburn, I learned to run a literary publication — the kind of work I still do today — and I made lifelong friends. I got a good education there — good enough, at least, to get me into graduate school at the kind of elite university that’s at the heart of today’s cheating scandal. But that elite university was also a school where I did not belong. It was just too far from home, too far from the soil my bare feet longed for. When I transferred to the University of South Carolina for my master’s degree, I found the same thing I’d found at Auburn: Everything I needed was right there — if I looked for it — and it felt like home.
Yes, state universities have their problems, and those problems can be profound. Cash-strapped legislatures too often balance their budgets by cutting funds to higher education, resulting in catastrophic tuition hikes. Provincial yahoos too often serve as university trustees or administrators, energetically erecting barriers to the kind of wide-ranging curiosity that a university education is supposed to foster. Tenured professors retire and are too often replaced by adjuncts so underpaid and so shamefully overburdened that their work amounts to exploitation. And that’s just for starters.
Nevertheless, against all odds, the real heart of a college education — the bond borne of shared intellectual exploration between teachers and curious students, between curious students and each other — remains intact, if only in pockets of campus life, at every state university I know. My brother and sister-in-law are professors at a state university, and I have friends who work at other state universities and community colleges across the region. To a person, their commitment to their students and to their own research and creative work is an inspiration. I would entrust my children’s education to them without a moment’s hesitation.
In fact, I already have. My sons are getting much the same kind of education at the University of Tennessee that I got so many years ago at Auburn and that my husband got at the University of Georgia. With some exceptions — just as there were decades ago — our sons are being challenged intellectually and supported emotionally. They are making friends who will be their friends for life.
As with my oldest son, a large state university isn’t the right fit for every student. There are many kinds of schools and many kinds of students, and I understand that. What I don’t understand is why so many people seem to think you can’t get a good education at a rank-and-file state university — not Berkeley or the University of Virginia, but still the kind of school the vast majority of young people in this country would feel grateful and honored to attend.
In the end, students who want an education will get an education wherever they go to school. No cheating required.
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【萧】【子】【承】【叹】【息】【了】【一】【下】，【说】【道】：“【你】【口】【口】【声】【声】【怨】【怼】【朕】【未】【曾】【真】【心】【待】【你】，【你】【又】【何】【曾】【真】【心】【待】【朕】？【皇】【后】，【你】【太】【不】【知】【足】【了】！【朕】【这】【辈】【子】【对】【不】【起】【过】【很】【多】【人】，【但】【是】【于】【你】，【朕】【实】【在】【没】【什】【么】【亏】【欠】【的】。” 【皇】【后】【边】【哭】【边】【笑】【的】【说】【道】：“【于】【臣】【妾】【无】【愧】？【呵】【呵】！” 【萧】【子】【承】【看】【着】【皇】【后】【摇】【了】【摇】【头】，【说】【道】：“【你】【既】【然】【不】【喜】【欢】【听】【朕】【叫】【你】【皇】【后】，【今】【后】【朕】【自】【然】【也】【不】【会】
【幕】【府】…… 【幕】【府】？ 【暗】【市】【之】【中】，【大】【概】【没】【人】【不】【清】【楚】【这】【两】【个】【字】【的】【分】【量】【有】【多】【重】，【也】【无】【人】【不】【知】【这】【幕】【府】【之】【人】【是】【有】【多】【低】【调】，【可】【低】【调】【的】【同】【时】，【却】【在】【这】【混】【乱】【不】【堪】【的】【暗】【市】【中】【做】【到】【了】【让】【人】【无】【法】【忽】【视】【它】【的】【存】【在】！ 【单】【凭】【这】【一】【点】，【恐】【怕】【在】【这】【暗】【市】【里】【能】【做】【到】【了】【也】【就】【一】【只】【手】【不】【到】【的】【数】。 【幕】【府】【位】【于】【暗】【市】【西】【侧】，【虽】【不】【列】【入】【五】【大】【势】【力】【之】【内】【但】【威】【势】【却】【远】1374白小姐网站【美】【女】【自】【古】【以】【来】【就】【是】【吸】【引】【人】【的】【话】【题】，【能】【迷】【倒】【众】【生】，【也】【能】【祸】【国】【殃】【民】，【可】【见】【美】【女】【的】【杀】【伤】【力】【之】【大】，【江】【山】【社】【稷】【也】【比】【不】【上】【倾】【国】【倾】【城】【的】【美】【女】。【那】【么】【下】【面】3【位】【女】【星】【谁】【最】【漂】【亮】【呢】？
【这】【两】【天】【在】【忙】【毕】【业】【论】【文】【的】【开】【题】，【扒】【光】【头】【发】【的】【那】【种】【忙】，【满】【脑】【子】【都】【是】【光】【子】【晶】【体】，【恨】【不】【得】【让】【江】【枫】【现】【在】【就】【回】【去】【写】【毕】【业】【论】【文】。 【原】【本】【上】【个】【学】【期】【就】【找】【好】【的】【毕】【业】【论】【文】【指】【导】【老】【师】，【因】【为】【我】【起】【晚】【了】【没】【了】。（【睡】【懒】【觉】【的】【下】【场】！！！） 【现】【在】【我】【要】【开】【始】【在】【图】【书】【馆】【大】【海】【捞】【针】【寻】【找】【一】【个】【虽】【然】【没】【学】【过】【但】【看】【起】【来】【能】【写】【的】【毕】【业】【论】【文】【的】【题】【目】。 【更】【新】【明】【日】【补】
【第】【三】【百】【六】【十】【章】【化】【神】【后】【期】（【有】【重】【复】，【白】【天】【看】） 【他】【会】【变】【成】【一】【个】【巨】【人】，【原】【本】【只】【是】【为】【了】【增】【强】【自】【己】【的】【攻】【击】【力】。【可】【是】【在】【得】【知】【哪】【个】【仿】【品】【拥】【有】“【永】【恒】【之】【枪】”【的】【特】【性】【后】，【杨】【瑞】【立】【刻】【就】【将】【本】【体】【转】【移】【掉】。【转】【而】【将】【绝】【大】【部】【分】【的】【血】【神】【之】【躯】【当】【做】【诱】【饵】，【制】【作】【出】【了】【一】【个】【承】【载】“【神】【器】【本】【源】【力】【量】”【的】【容】【器】【请】【君】【入】【瓮】！ “【这】【样】【应】【该】【就】【差】【不】【多】【了】【吧】！”【先】【是】
“【就】【像】【光】【明】【女】【神】【一】【样】【教】【导】【人】【类】【学】【习】【获】【取】【力】【量】【一】【般】，【自】【然】【女】【神】【作】【为】【以】【为】【守】【序】【而】【强】【大】【的】【神】【灵】，【自】【然】【对】【这】【个】【世】【界】【有】【着】【诸】【多】【的】【恩】【赐】。【世】【界】【树】【的】【枝】【丫】【与】【其】【孕】【育】【的】【自】【然】【之】【书】【便】【是】【自】【然】【女】【神】【对】【我】【们】【最】【大】【的】【助】【力】。” 【在】【一】【处】【极】【为】【美】【丽】【迷】【幻】【的】【空】【间】【之】【中】，【艾】【维】【娜】【给】【纳】【兰】【普】【及】【着】【一】【些】【他】【应】【该】【知】【道】【但】【却】【还】【不】【知】【道】【的】【知】【识】。 【放】【在】【从】【前】，【纳】【兰】
“【她】【走】【了】。”【乔】【纳】【森】【再】【次】【变】【成】【死】【鱼】【状】【态】。 【李】【子】【涛】【则】【对】【此】【并】【不】【意】【外】，【只】【有】【白】【痴】【才】【会】【直】【接】【上】【去】【对】【一】【个】【女】【人】【说】；“【你】【只】【是】【个】【情】【妇】，【所】【有】【的】【物】【质】【我】【都】【能】【满】【足】，【但】【别】【想】【着】【占】【有】【我】【的】【感】【情】……” 【他】【不】【知】【道】【这】【家】【伙】【脑】【袋】【有】【什】【么】【毛】【病】，【是】【工】【作】【变】【傻】【了】【吗】？ “【来】【看】【看】【我】【定】【制】【的】【椅】【子】。”【李】【子】【涛】【转】【移】【他】【的】【关】【注】【点】，【再】【这】【么】【下】【去】【的】【话】