Changes in Majors
I am not sure whether it is a curiosity question or has more substance, but I would be interested in an analysis of changes in majors by college students. Currently, this subject is not even considered an issue; changing is commonplace, no big deal.
Nonetheless, what I am especially interested in is the “why” behind changes which can safely be categorized as moves toward less academic rigor, e.g., from Engineering to Business Administration.
[Note: the thrust of this essay is about changes in majors after a young person has enrolled in college. There is a valid related discussion, although not here, about the age at which the conversation about different career paths should commence. Some educators believe it is middle school where the first pulling back of the future curtain should occur, and they host Career Days accordingly. The focus there is exposure to different career paths and the education necessary for those paths; there is no attempt to promote a specific career/major to a child of that age. Think of it as being more like first-level research, with the adults taking the lead in a non-aggressive fashion.]
These are some of the inputs which could be relevant to dealing with this question:
*is there a disconnect between what the student thought he brought to the table academically and what is actually the situation. The point here is not IQ, but general academic preparation.
*to what extent did the new college student know as a high schooler what the requirements (skill in certain subjects, time, energy, writing/reading loads) were for a particular major. [Enter the aforementioned Career Days.]
*more specifically, does the student know in advance when prerequisite courses are gatekeepers with respect to pursuing particular majors.
*is the role of the high school guidance counselor, and maybe the college advisor as well, too often merely a smell test concerning a student’s intentions; how often do they bring a broad and deep knowledge of colleges and majors to the conversation with the student.
*more pointedly, is the match of student and college logical for the pursuit of a specific major.
*are students, in choosing initial majors, unduly sensitive — to the desires of parents for “recognizable” or “bankable” majors, or — to those in their community who wish them to return as role models with expertise in areas of local need, as defined by adults.
*has the student arrived at a revised understanding of self and of the value of the time/cost/debt associated with the initial major he or she previously selected. [If a student has been thinking about his or her prospective path for many years prior to entering college, the odds should be greater that he or she has arrived at a better understanding of self.]
*has the previously chosen major been made questionable by a complete disconnect with a professor or individual class where the student’s confidence has been seriously shaken.
*is the change in majors really a mask for deeper issues – e.g. , an absence of academic support from the college and/or difficulties in adjusting socially to an environment new to the student.
*almost forgot – how many shifts in majors are for the pursuit of higher paying disciplines. [This can be perilous if there is no real passion for the “money major.”]
Overall, when students are thinking about changing their majors, are they undertaking serious research, asking multiple questions, consulting with relevant people, and analyzing all of the inputs?
How many such changes represent a well thought out “going to?” How many are a semi-impulsive “going from?”
Are there systemic changes in the modus operandi at the high school level which would better prepare students for higher education, regardless of their majors? (Easy answer here, “yes!”)
At Garey and Franklin Streets
Sitting solo on a public bench outside a panaderia in Pomona, California and munching a delicious pastry from said location, watching the sun being slowly replaced by dusk and white America being rapidly transformed into a colorful mosaic, it is easy to become reflective at the corner of Garey and Franklin. With my writing energies historically being better expressed along negative theme lines (consult my therapist for the reasons), the thoughts of your lowly author went along these lines:
An affluent white person has what you might call a “perpetual passport.” He can wander into a less privileged community –physically, empathetically, financially—while always having the ability to return to his whiteness, to assume his natal place in the power structure. He needs no green card, no visa, and there is no expiration date on his passport. As part of the white history of the country, he cannot even reject his “passport.”
And yet “whitey” has only a limited ability to hold back what is happening right in front of his eyes: a transfer of power. Moreover, whether “he,” individually or collectively, has the foresight and resolve to participate in a rational progression toward greater sharing of that power, accomplished in a peaceful manner, is open for debate.
The American historical narrative that a senior citizen grew up with is being rewritten, a process which will only intensify, reflecting the combination of demographic change and greater empowerment for those who have previously been disenfranchised. What heretofore have been labeled as “aberrations” –slavery, military excursions, resistance to women being able to vote – are now increasingly considered to be integral to the historical story of white power and its hold on the structure of society.
For some, as a specific example of said revisionary approach, the fathering of an illegitimate child of a slave mother by Thomas Jefferson to some observers almost negates his many contributions to creating a new and stable country.
In such fashion, the concept of evaluating a person on his body of work goes by the boards, replaced by a simple checklist of whether he, whatever the historical context, acted in accordance with the standards of contemporary America—or at least an important and growing part of it.
As a corollary to this view, the country’s numerous foreign wars are lumped together under the heading of a military-industrial complex agenda. Little attention is paid to actions thought to be in pursuit of admirable objectives, such as saving the lives of innocent people; those are offset, in the opinion of many, by egregious errors regarding non-white cultures.
The answer to why women were suppressed is of course simple: to maximize white male power.
The existence of slavery is the clinching argument that the prior American narrative was fraudulent. Slavery is not to be considered the horrible mistake of a young, evolving nation—instead, in fact, it was the necessary centerpiece of the American white power design, of how this country was built.
What is transpiring is not a calm look at our history as a necessary initial step to preparing those in power for a hypothetical peaceful transition (aka, downgrading) in their positions. It is more akin to “The Fire Next Time,” or its contemporary counterpart, “Between the World and Me.”
Time to quit, writing that is. As is typical of less affluent areas around the world, the street lighting at Garey and Franklin is subpar, insufficient for old-fashioned writing on one of those little notepads which, with an accompanying pen, are my perpetual companions.
Will I eventually connect at least some of the above dots? I do not know. Thinking about these topics is quite depressing.