Matt Cook

You cannot mistake whooping cough for anything else. It is the deep, throaty wail of a brave and often foolish student. It bounces off the walls of a classroom and brings pause to a teacher’s lecture. Sometimes a ring of empty desks surround the student stricken with the affliction. We, as lay persons, know two things about whooping cough – it is contagious and it is miserable.

The health of students during the fall and winter seasons is of particular concern. Some may remember ESU’s campaign to inform and quell the spread of H1N1 a few years ago.

Sickness is both an epidemic of fear and prevention, and with precious little time until the end of the semester, each class is valuable. Students need to be mindful of their health.

For those without health insurance, going to an emergency room is less acceptable than missing class. Just showing up will often cost you $100 and there is no guarantee that anything a doctor can provide will help you. Indeed, the cost of health care for students seems a luxury that no part-time job could possibly manage.

There are alternatives. The newly established Student Health Center in South Morris Hall provides a cheap substitute for traditional doctor visits and commonsense preventative care are both methods of defense against illness.

But 21st century America, with its expanding life expectancy and waist lines, and its impatience and inconsiderate nature have bread a generation of students unwilling to take even the most basic steps at personal wellbeing. I care not to speculate why. I, myself, would not be a candidate for “Emporia State’s Healthiest Student.” Sometimes even our best efforts are not good enough.

See now the student crouched low in their seat, bags – nay, luggage – under their eyes from a restless night of cold and hot sweats, their notes a jumble of words inspired by night-time decongestants. But they show up. Their cleanliness and healthy habits have done nothing to prevent the inevitable flu. But there is a quiz today, and the only thing more powerful than their headache is their determination to keep their grade afloat.

See now another student, sick and unaware, their general apathy has spilled over into their personal health and has threatened those around them.

We all know these students. I ask them to be reasonable. I ask the students to regulate one another and to encourage friends to take care of themselves. Professors are often far more understanding than they appear. Some require documentation of a doctor visit, but most are willing to listen and all are sympathetic to a genuinely sick student.

I ask you be considerate of the students around you, who, like you, want to weather the rest of this semester in relative health. Stay at home and rest, if not for yourself, then for the greater good of the Emporia State community.

Matt Cook

Matt Cook

College students have a particular stereotype and films, literature and news media have a history of portraying students as 20-something, self-righteous bohemians, nerds, athletes with hand-outs or aggressively ambitious. Watch “PCU” or “Revenge of the Nerds,” and all of the generalizations about the American college student come into focus.

But there are fringe demographics of students that, by merely existing on campus, challenge traditional notions of the collegiate experience. They spill into our comfortable little world, seeking what all desire – a degree and a useful education.

The term “non-traditional student” is sometimes used to corral our understanding of them. Some are middle-aged and want to finish what they started twenty years ago. Others are from rural populations and have bowed to the pressures imposed on them by urbanization.

These people are as much a part of the Emporia State community as anyone.

The clank of cowboy boots on the tile of King Hall can seem abrupt and out of place as we often disassociate rural living with higher education. For a time, that was the truth. Many of our grandparents who grew up on farms regarded a college education as needless and instead sought work after high school.

But that’s not the case anymore. The small farmer is dying in America and the ability to find lucrative jobs without at least a bachelor’s degree is increasingly difficult.

Non-traditional students are often overlooked by the student body in general or rejected outright. Inquisitive and eager students of an older age are scoffed at or thought of as perennial losers, having not attended college at the “appropriate” age.

The audacity of certain students’ at this university is astounding. We live in a town surrounded by agriculture, a town that owes its history to farming. Yet, when we find root elements of Emporia bleeding into our school, they are mocked and ignored. A persistent denial of our privilege as American youth pervades our relationship with the older generations and with the rural.

It is not about respect. One earns respect. It is about understanding the situation at large. A friend recently expressed to me his dismay having only acquired a bachelor’s degree – a sad but true testament to the state of employment. The world we live in places an overbearing emphasis on higher education to a degree that has economically and socially crippled those without access to it.

The student body should show reverence for the ambitious, marginal populations of our school. We share with them the same desire to live comfortably, having chosen ESU as our conduit. Each student’s story brings with it experiences and lessons that we all could benefit from. Before you is an education outside of tuition. You ought to explore it.

Matt Cook