Students Speak: Clemson University College of Health, Education, and Human Development

Imagine being incoming college freshman majoring in, say, education, health sciences, nursing, or maybe parks, recreation, and tourism management. It's summer orientation. You and your parent of choice are lead around the campus by in-the-know students carrying silly signs that avoid loss of trailing ducklings. It's hot, South Carolina Hot.

You're handed a map and told to follow along as you learn the ins and outs of dinning locations, dorm rooms, and Clemson University history. Along the way, the lead student makes the entire group take a vow to forever praise the almighty Danny Ford, teaches you why you must rub the rock in Frank Howard's Death Valley, and explains to parents that the Esso Club is not a gas station.

If you're lucky, you might learn that there is no "P", "Z", or "U" in the proper pronunciation of the university name.
Finally, you are directed to an auditorium near Edwards Hall that is full of like-major acquaintances. These people will soon become some of your best friends, but not before you get to view my latest piece of higher education propaganda for the Clemson University College of Health, Education, and Human Development.

Confusion: Defining Rittman and Beyond

Rittman, as in Rittman, Ohio, was at one time the center of the universe—at least for me. I never wanted to leave my beloved city of 7000ish where Indians football ruled, the dividing line between the hill and those who lived below rested at Grandview park, and churches outnumbered the bars by only a few. It’s a strange little place.

Had this town surrounded by rectangular patches of feed-grade crops been an actual breathing entity with conscience thought and a daily routine, it would certainly have an hour a week booked at the relaxing seat of a qualified counselor. This, I believe, is the root of all issues when things go bad for the Rittmanites.

Ya see, Rittman is suffering from gender confusion.

Until the problem is resolved, bad juju abounds.The City of Rittman, as it’s known, isn’t reallllllly a city. Wiki proclaims, “a city is an urban area that is differentiated from a town, village, or hamlet by size, population density, importance or legal status”.

I guess this really falls on the definition of what or is.

It isn’t really urban, or urbane for that matter. Population density is pretty much right out the window. The importance of existence was great at one time. But now that I’ve had some time past the gates, as defined by field of corn XXX lying in all outskirt points of the compass, the importance subsided a bit.

As for status, legal or otherwise, I know Rittman has been on Cleveland TV News at least twice that I can remember; once involved Popeye parent's bar, the Sleepy Owl, a rifle, and someone barricading himself in the attic. I think it was 1988, and the rifle was a .22 gage...or something like that.

The schools are defined as an exempted village. The only exemptions I’ve ever seen are during the times of local and state funding. “The Rittman School District claims its solemn right of exemption to all funding. Why should we pay higher taxes when our kids aren’t getting the education they need.”

Ergo—back to the comfy cuckoo chair.

Don’t get me wrong; I love Rittman. I relish my experiences from childhood, and I would never trade my teen adventures with JL, MB, VM, TB, DM, GK, RC, JS, DC, KE, SB and all the rest. (I had to get a RMS Smoke Signal reference in there).

All I’m saying it that before Rittman can move past any undermining juju, it simply must make a decision as to which of the defining ors best fit. I vote for hamlet.

Henceforth, I go to Worlds Beyond Rittman. Don’t worry; I’ll make sure to visit. I always do.