News-Record.com

Only a year or two ago the names were so full of syllables, vowels and exotic pronunciations that I'd often scribble phonetic spellings in the margins. Back then I was teaching Kyeshia, Semaj, Jameya. Now it's Amanda, Victoria and even Richard.

I've seen other signs this semester that the times may be changing.
Only a few years ago I'd witnessed growing rudeness and disrespect in college classrooms. I even expelled a pair of students after displays of childish, disruptive behavior.

Thankfully, at least in my little corner of academia, that trend seems to be ebbing, too. Students are more serious and respectful, punctuating their sentences with "sir" or "ma'am" and actually listening. Most not only arrive for an 8 a.m. class on time but consistently early.

On an even more optimistic note, the frequency of pregnancies among my students has dropped to nearly zero. That was hardly the case in the late 1990s, when students would disappear in the middle of the semester only to reappear as young mothers. Some of these pregnancies involved older, married students. Most did not.

It saddens me when one of my young students opts for parenthood at such a fragile age. Even if they are equipped with the maturity and familial support to be mothers and fathers, they're forfeiting an important part of their youth.

As for fashion, cornrows and Afros and dreadlocks are more popular than ever. So is the curious practice of wearing pajama bottoms outdoors. In public.

Tattoos, earrings (on women and men) and body piercings are so prevalent as to be hardly noticeable. But billowing pants that are several sizes too large seem to be passe. Prison chic appears, thankfully, to be primarily for prisoners again. Or at least high school students.

As for the cell phone, it isn't just fashionable; it's a bare necessity. I recall confronting a student on why she hadn't bought her textbook yet. She was strapped for cash, she explained, but she'd purchase it soon.

Then she whipped out her cell phone, a sleek silver number that you could slip into your front pocket.

"So, how much are paying for that thing?" I asked.

"Eighty a month," she said.

"Eighty dollars?" I replied. "That's almost twice my monthly phone bill."

"But you don't understand, Mr. Johnson" she said. "I have text messaging."

Oh. OK.

Finally, new facilities at A&T and UNCG are sprouting like weeds, and they are more than impressive. My renovated computer classroom in Crosby Hall is called a "smart classroom," which obviously must mean it's smarter than the instructor.

The lights automatically come on when you walk in. Press a button and an audiovisual screen unfurls. Press another, and a ceiling-mounted video projector fires up.

There's a DVD player and a VCR. They've even got cable. Yet I'd trade it all for a laser printer that actually works when you need it to.

As for my students, I welcome the holiday break but I'll miss them.
In the post-9/11 era, they are clearly worldlier, and in some cases, wearier, than young people their age used to be. Or ought to be.
In jarringly honest autobiographies at the beginning of the term, they share their fears and ambitions. Many are the products of divorced households. Some don't know their parents. Lots of them are working their way through school. One took a quick flight in October to the Pacific Northwest to marry a soldier. Then, back to class.

Yet all my students are still flush with the idealism of youth. Some already operate their own small businesses. Others have managed to carve careers in bold new frontiers such as NASCAR.

They still believe they can do and be anything. And they're right.