Add to hazy academic goals the university's daunting size, and you have 1,000 undeclared freshmen a year feeling as tossed and aimless as leaves on an autumn wind. Schwartz helps himself to a slice and asks the students what they think they might do with a degree in education. One young womanwho, as evidenced by an empty basket and an economy bottle of Tide at her side, is clearly making good use of her timesays she wants to be a high school guidance counselor. An earnest-looking coed wants to know the difference between a teacher and a professor. Schwartz, himself once an English major who fell in love with teaching as a Peace Corps volunteer in Africa, gently puts in a word for pragmatism, pointing out that there are always more jobs for teachers of math, physics and chemistry.
Students leaving the talk have a lot more than pizza to chew on.
The idea of creating a cohesive, comprehensive place for this population of first-year students had been bandied about for years. Proponents knew that launching such a program would require an elaborate choreography of faculty, funds and physical resources like housing. Last spring, when Patterson dorm in Southwest was slated for renovation, their chance came. Patterson, recalls Michael Gilbert, is a promising site for fostering freshman bonds. A drop-in center was located in the basement where students can go and talk with advisor Karen Blumlein about everything from academics to personal issues.