It’s hard to imagine my life without Corban. The whole campus feels like home to me and the professors a bit like uncles, aunts and grandparents.
I grew up going to the faculty/staff picnics, and I remember when the Psalm Center was built and the time my big sister babysat for Dr. Matt Lucas and his wife when their twins were tiny. My mom attended Western Baptist College alongside Dr. Sheldon Nord, Dr. Marty Trammel and Dr. Bryce Bernard; and she enjoyed taking classes from professor Jim Hills.
I guess you could say I am technically a second-generation Corbanite, but there is more to my history at Corban than just my parents’ alumni status; two uncles, two aunts, three cousins and my three siblings have all attended here as well.
Oh, and did I forget to mention that my dad has also taught here for fourteen years?
I think it was probably about the time my brother, Matt, began college in 2011 that I really started hanging around campus. I would pack up my home school books, ride up with either him or Dad, and spend the day in the coffee shop or a solarium feeling rather smug that I didn’t actually have to attend class.
I got to know my brother’s friends, as well as friends of those friends. This meant that when I officially started college, I felt more like a junior than a freshman, which led to a bit of senioritis during my sophomore year (but that’s a story for another time).
Starting college was a lot harder than I expected. Despite the fact that the campus felt like a second home, I experienced culture shock when I left the desk in my room where I had done school for 12 years, and walked into another room filled with strange faces and new-ness. I was very surprised at how difficult it was to switch from just being a professor’s kid around campus to being a full-time student. But even through the times I wanted to lock myself in the bathroom and pretend there was nobody else within a five mile perimeter (and maybe did, but I am definitely not admitting anything), I still had an amazing support system.
That amazing support system here on campus has come in the form of my dad. I am pretty sure I would have called it quits a long time ago if it hadn’t been for him. My favorite spot is the comfy couch in his office, even though he is always teasing me that I think it’s my office and not his.
One of the things I love most about attending the college where my dad works, is that I have been able to build friendships with my dad’s co-workers. These friendships have helped to enforce what was already engrained into my brain: professors are just normal people. They may look all big and scary up in front of the classroom lecturing on Dante or the quadratic formula, but in reality they are just people who have an insane passion for what they teach and they desperately want to convey that to all of us.
So the next time you feel like a professor is an alien from outer space, try and remember that he or she is a completely normal human being who probably knows a good deal more about the subject than you do. With this in mind, you may end up leaving college with not only a degree, but with the life-long friendships of unofficially adopted uncles, aunts and grandparents.