Summer school

When I used to think summer school, I would think either of the cool-but-not-so-bright kids with leather jackets, motorcycles, and a string of girls, or of the somewhat nerdy kids with little motivation for school, the "pick on me" sign on their heads, as well as an inferiority complex that reached the ceiling. Can you tell I grew up watching "Grease" and every single 80s movie that features Mollie Ringwald?

Fortunately, I've grown up a lot since then, and now, besides watching wonderfully profound movies such as Office Space, Muriel's Wedding, Ever After, and Priscilla Queen of the Desert, I also have a much clearer idea of summer school. In high school, summer school is definitely still intended for children who did not do their very best in the previous year, or children who, as my youngest put it this morning, "need some real serious tutoring". But in college, it's a whole different ballgame. And that was news to me.

In Europe, there's really no such thing as summer school. Sure, there are wildly outlandish workshops you can take at exotic locations, workshops which inevitably have titles such as "Statistical modeling in Martinique!" or "The Pan-European Sphere: Myth or reality? Find out more at the University of Monaco!", or the best yet, "Dive into the world of psychometrics in beautiful Barbedos!", but unless you had thousands of dollars to spare and a wild desire to learn about something hopelessly irrelevant, you simply stayed home. The simple reason for the lack of summer school in continental Europe is the length of their summer vacations. While American students get a neat three months off school, Dutch, German, and most other European students, get a measly six weeks off. Six weeks in which they have to earn enough money to go on vacation, go on vacation, and possibly retake a few finals as well. So there is really no time for extra classes there.

Over here, it's a completely different story. Not only do our students have all of May, June, July, and half of August off, they also face the fact that unless they are willing to take on an overload of classes each semester, or enroll in summer school, they will not graduate in four years. Since most students, in spite of the current economic crisis, are dying to get out here as fast as their legs can carry them, they have a choice between two evils. And most of them opt for the less stressful option, namely to spend at least part of their summer in school. And universities love this. Because, and here's the catch; although they charge students full fee, they only have to pay their faculty a portion of their usual salary. Ca-ching!

So then why would any faculty member in their right mind (and that possibly precludes myself) volunteer for summer school? The answer lies in three words: May, June, July. Perhaps there are people out there who can do it, but there is no way I can spend three months doing absolutely nothing. Of course, there are always the wild research plans all of us have around commencement. Ideas which involve writing grant proposals, doing lots of statistics, or answering questions such as "How do teenagers across American incorporate ebonics into their daily life". However, all good intentions aside, most of us know that the moment we stop going to the office, the pressure to work is gone, and every one of us turns into couch potatoes who develop a sudden interest in MTV Cribs, The Discovery Channel, As the world turns, or really anything as long as it's not work.
Last year, I got lucky: we bought a house, something that took up most of my summer. But without a house to buy, with two kids old enough that having me there every moment of the day is now considered an embarrassement (although at night they will still tell me they loved hanging out with me, the public eye-rolling gets old), and a dog that is pretty much trained up, I could just envision myself withering away behing my potted plants. Plus, and not be crass, we could use the money. Two months without income, no matter how hard you've saved, is hard. So when the opportunity to teach summer school came up, I took it. And here I am. In my office once again.

But you know what? So far I kind of like it. I only have to go into work two days a week. It's very quiet, with the majority of the students and faculty away, and the one major upside? There is no dress code in summer. So short skirts, flip flops, shorts, t-shirts, here I come!