As I look back, almost exactly 50 years, to the time when all Highlands students who hoped to graduate needed to pass the university-devised English Usage Exam, I realize it wasn’t so hard after all.
The anticipation of hurdles, in my experience, is far worse than the reality. “What if I don’t pass the exam? Will that mean I can’t graduate?” we’d ask ourselves. Indeed, failure to pass it meant taking it again until we passed, but I forget the requisite waiting period before re-taking. At the time, Highlands was under the quarter system, with each term lasting about 10 weeks. I suspect those who failed the exam needed to wait until the following quarter.
The word “English” in the title of the since-discontinued exam was a misnomer. That implied it was a specialized test for English majors that required learning and retaining hosts of terms like passive voice, run-on sentences, gerunds and fragments.
Not so. It was simply an examination that required clear, concise English. But unfortunately, in my years of teaching at Highlands, I became accustomed to hearing students posit that the test was something designed exclusively for English majors.
In addition, a great many students assumed that composition — the act of clear expression and exposition — was the bailiwick of students majoring in English. And, regrettably, I got the impression too often that expecting clarity and conciseness was beyond the ken of students in other fields.
No, my friends, the English Usage Exam was a necessary tool for demonstrating that Highlands sent out its students prepared to handle the English language.
Only recently, the Highlands Board of Regents voted to eliminate the ACT requirement. Various officials at the meeting argued that some colleges “in Massachusetts and elsewhere” have removed the requirement. But yet, some colleges continue to require it. Like any other hurdle students need to negotiate, it seems that national standardized test is helpful in determining strengths and weaknesses and in helping place students in particular classes, remedial, advanced or otherwise.
Did the regents, in their haste, believe that because the ACT costs the student money, its elimination would be advantageous? Did the regents simply reason that removing such a test would help grease the academic chute?
And finally, was there a considerable amount of discussion of the pros and cons before the regents acted on the recommendation that the ACT be scrubbed?
To some, the ACT may have seemed like just one more petty annoyance impeding students’ paths to a diploma. We hope results regarding enrollment trends will yield substantive data to prove the regents were right after all.
To be clear, the English Usage Exam was a determiner of whether students graduated; the ACT has served more as an entrance exam, designed to help place students in particular classes.
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Does anyone remember those old Mutt and Jeff cartoons? Mutt, the taller one, served as the foil to the shorter Jeff. In one panel, Jeff is shown bundled up, a scarf around his neck, a woolly cap, a coat and overshoes. What’s he doing? Going through the motions of shoveling snow. But yet, the cartoon panel shows a July sun, birds, foliage in the trees and not one flake of snow. ‘What are you doing?” Mutt asks. “Shoveling now,” Jeff answers. “In July?” “Well yes. I figured it’s best to do it now rather than waiting until winter when it’s freezing.”
That same cartoon theme came to me Monday night as real flakes whitened the Las Vegas landscape. I’d been putting off replacing the wipers on the car my wife usually drives, even though one blade had a strip of rubber that dangled like a piece of licorice. So naturally, I need to replace the wipers and tried my luck at O’Reilly’s auto store.
I felt even more like Jeff inasmuch as I could have replaced the blades earlier. Other people buying wiper blades there also procrastinated. Nevertheless, one of the employees there, Dre Gallegos, did the honors. Even though the installation took about three minutes, there’s something about 21st-century technology that baffles me.
That was a feel-good moment, that makes us proud to shop locally. I appreciate the help . . . even if all I did was stand around, feeling a bit like Jeff. Or Mutt.
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I wrote recently about the “thrill machine” at my childhood home on Railroad Avenue. The gist was that we Trujillos made money by selling a mixture of water and spearmint leaves, which grew wild near our hydrant. We learned that touching the hydrant created what we called a “thrill,” consisting of a mild electric shock running through their bodies. We charged our friends and neighbors a nickel or a dime.
Soon we sensed the risk to that enterprise and curtailed the activity, assisted by our dad, who removed the hydrant pronto thereafter. I called the spearmint leaves “poleo,” which we’d pluck to use as a substitute for the not-yet-invented Scope mouthwash.
Karl Gonzales remembers the item and its taste. “What you probably meant was ‘hierba buena,’” Karl told me. “Hierba buena” translates to “good herb.” Karl said that as a child, he too enjoyed the taste of the spearmint leaves.
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A number of years ago, a small company that included Gene Parson, the current West Las Vegas Schools superintendent, did some landscaping for the First Presbyterian Church. Since then, the Rev. Rosemary Pierson has on occasion filled the pulpit. Carol and Bob Pearson attend the church regularly, and the parson has been Randy Campbell.
It makes one wonder how these people could ever pull off a conversation that was Parson-to-Parson-to-Pierson-to-Pearson. Well, that likelihood has been diminished due to the retirement of Parson Randy Campbell, who has served the congregation for several years.
Not only has Campbell filled the pulpit but has immersed himself in countless civic activities for which he deserves praise. A great many people in this area are glad that Campbell came our way.
We wish him . . . well . . . God-speed!