Chasing - and catching - a dream

For nearly 10 years now, I have been chasing a dream. It began in 2002 when I returned to college after nearly 25 years. My last attempt at higher education ended like all my previous attempts – with a handful of drop slips.

This time would be very different.

Using the paltry few units I had managed to accumulate between canasta games, handball matches, and hanging out in the offices of the school newspaper and marching band, I enrolled for a third try at the local community college and completed work on my Associate of Arts degree in journalism. After 30 years in the newspaper business, I needed only to complete my general education requirements to get the A.A., and I did that in three semesters (four if you count the one I took off to have both of my knees replaced!)

My Bachelor of Arts degree took just five quarters at the local state university, even though I chose to specialize in public relations in an effort to diversify. I worked hard and graduated cum laude – my GPA would have been higher except for those units from the community college that were 30-plus years old; they were passing but not outstanding by any stretch of the imagination. But armed now with the degree, I found a teaching job at a career college and my dream seemed to have come true.

Funny thing, though. In order to continue teaching, I realized I would need more education – a master’s degree would be required if I wanted to continue. So I found an online program in business communication (the local university does not offer anything beyond a BA in communications) and in two years, I had a Master of Arts degree in business communication. As a bonus, I had managed to complete all 12 courses with a 4.0 grade-point average.

Summa cum laude, baby!

Finally, I had realized the potential every elementary school teacherd written about on my report cards! As a curious side effect, I found I was hooked on learning, a veritable knowledge junkie. Classes ended and I found myself yearning for more. So with just a month off to regroup, I embarked on the ultimate educational challenge: a doctoral degree.

That was 2009. Now, in two weeks, the first and most grueling part of the doctoral journey will be over. That’s when my 15^th and final doctoral course ends. Barring a natural disaster, I will notch my 15^th “A” as well (that makes 27 in a row), earning me another summa laurel.

It is also when the challenge ramps up and we will find out just exactly what I have learned.

It is called the “Doctoral Comprehensive Exam.” My school, Capella University, describes doctoral study as being a two-phased study. The exam (aka “comps”) is the culmination of the academic portion of the process, the “capstone.” The dissertation is the research portion of the degree program, and I will be embarking on that immediately upon passing the comps.

Three questions; 15 pages each maximum, not counting cover and reference pages; 28 calendar days to respond; all without any help.

No help at all. Can’t even discuss the questions with family or friends. Not even the dog. The school is very explicit about this:

“Learners who share their comprehensive exams questions with anyone besides their comprehensive examination facilitator or who receive or solicit any coaching, review, or editing from any person or resource in the development or writing of the responses to their comprehensive examination questions are … subject to receiving a “no pass” decision and possible dismissal from the university.” (Capella SOBT Comprehensive Exam Manual, 2012)

There is no doubt that the questions will be difficult, and the challenge to answer them completely will be substantial. But I know I will be up for the challenge, because despite the above warning, I will have three people helping me get through it: my father, my mother, and my little sister. All three of my family members share two things: none of them finished high school, and they were my biggest supporters in my quest until the day they each died.

I lost dad to emphysema three weeks before I received my A.A. Mom made it through the B.A, but passed a month before I received my M.A. Debbie, my only sibling, died in the summer of 2010, unable to fight off a staph infection after years of battling a major case of psoriasis that eventually invaded her entire body.

I’ll never forget Debbie’s last day. She and I spent about an hour and a half together in her hospital room, laughing and crying together. She made me promise, no matter what happened to her, I would finish my doctoral studies. “Mom and dad were so proud of you, and so am I,” she said. I promised her I would see this through, kissed her on the forehead, and told her I would be back the next day to see her.

Two hours later, she was gone.

So I have pressed on, sometimes against my own doubts and fears, and in two weeks, I will take a big step toward fulfilling that promise. And I know the three of them will be there for me, if only in my heart.