At my university the hardest struggle was not course material, rather it was spacing in classroom, and therefore getting "approval" from my professor-slash-advisor...That was truly the cry of anger: to convince them to place you to the next level, gosh, I hated to be a transfer student. The classroom only allowed 20 students, so the ones who started as freshmen were given priority and transfer students were pretty much in and out of the boat. They did try to accommodate us,though. That Spring semester it was exactly that questionable "status", where I had to take TWO courses elsewhere, to be transferred into my school, and move on to the next level in the fall. And the "aha moment" came when I registered for FIT in New York. Just for the summer, though.
Thank god, my friend/classmate was following my trail and we ended up like this: two girls in a big city at a…hostel.The bizarre registration included bringing a valid passport, even if you’re US citizen. Thankfully,it was only two blocks from FIT, but the room was far beyond dingy. It felt like I played a role in my own nightmare: room appeared to resemble a closet, with a pair of bunk beds stacked like your favorite garage shelves. Air conditioner was promised but never given and I dreamt of icewater shower, how unbearably hot it was. We were on the search of an apartment…
|To Be Continued...|