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When I was eighteen years old my parents paid for me to attend a competitive private college in northern Wisconsin called Tree Point. I’ll be the first to admit that this place was kind of preppy. Not only were the dorms gender-segregated, but the school had its own song written by some 19th-century dead guy that we all had to sing at convocation. In addition, the dorms had curfews, and if you wanted to visit a girls’ dorm you had to show your student ID to an on-duty RA in the lobby and sign out when you left. If you didn’t you could be subject to a $50 fine and/or possibly academic probation.
My first experience there was a run-in I had with a student named Jerome. He asked me if my parents were “alumnae” and if I expected to graduate “cum laude.” I wasn’t quite sure what he meant. I thought it might be some sort of “momma” joke, so I punched him in the face.
Note: This story is an outdated version of “Autobiography: How I discovered that Romans used to live on Mars.” Click here in order to start reading the current version.
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