Business As Unusual at a Small College
Business As Unusual at a Small College
by
Opal H. DeLancey
The first day of the 1956 school year found thirty-six Montgomery College faculty reporting, six of the group new employees, creating an air of challenge and new horizons. From the moment I entered the cafeteria on the Takoma Park Campus for the first faculty meeting, it was clear to me that the intelligence, creativity, and dedication of the small faculty were of unique character. Grass roots democracy in action surfaced. What a joy, such as not seen in large schools. Most faculty will admit that their dedication includes the belief that the college is for the sole purpose of teaching their disciplines and/or supporting their personal beliefs, all of which make unusually competent teachers but a faculty “damned” hard to live with and keep on target. Motions, committee reports, review of the year’s goals filled the air. Following an introductory tour of the campus, I eloquently fell into the carpenter’s pile of waste materials in the new library area. Dean Deyo and Virginia Pinney rescued me with nothing more serious than my hurt pride. The school year was off to a great start!
One of my extracurricular assignments was to be chief hall officer for the northwest third-floor hall of the old Academic Building, supervising the open stairway to the unoccupied fourth floor. Remember those old hall police assignments? Forget it! Young people overcame that obstacle with expertise and efficiency by using an obscure corner of the stairwell for the petting routine.
I became friends and shared joys and disappointments with many of the students. What I heard most was how it hurts not to be a good student. “Isn’t there some way I can tell them I cannot accomplish their dreams for me? Miss D, I can find a way to help humanity and live a good life, maybe as a policeman.” It hurt!
Summer 1965, another beginning—the opening of the Rockville Campus. A few of us faculty members reported one month early to ensure the start of school on time. And all of our work was done without compensation and/or supervision of a president. Mud and unfinished buildings were much in evidence; equipment and furniture were not. Everything appeared impossible, but the goal was attained. All classes started on time.
Calculating machines for the laboratory were delivered early the morning of the first class; company representatives stood around the wall ready to install and service machines as required. Can you envision classes in session, students at work, and corporate representatives at their stations? A beautiful sight!
Soon another highlight emerged—Fun Camp. One hundred-fifty children from Lincoln Park were invited to the College to attend classes in physical education, art, music, mathematics, English, and calculating machines. The little tykes enjoyed operating the machines, spreading tape in huge piles. It appeared these youngsters learned much. The biggest problem was finding a technique to dismiss class, as they would not leave. I unplugged the machines only to have students crawl under the desk and plug them in faster than I could unplug them. I finally learned to put two big arms of love around two of them and pushed them to the door and closed it rapidly. One does not often force students out of class. Unquestionably, the Fun Camp with Lincoln Park children and other such groups become a model for worthwhile community services. Two new elements appeared in this program: the children who came to the College and the instructors who volunteered.
As I reviewed my years at MC, I realized that the most creative and fulfilling activities involved creating an individually-paced slide tape instructional program for the calculating machines laboratory. As computer skills replaced those old crank-driven machines, teacher and students were fascinated with the new capability. When the first programmable Monroe with the capability of 1,000 steps made a decision whether to itemize on a federal tax return or not, we ran the program over and over for no reason other than the thrill of watching it making the decision and printing out the answer. Machines and capability grew incredibly. As machines became more complicated with diverse capability, we developed an individually-paced slide tape presentation for each of the twenty pieces of equipment located at that level. Writing the program, recording the tapes, and supervising photography provided creative variety. Yes, it was a good experience. I must admit, though, that I am still looking for those three brilliant young men who wrote a program designed to prove that even with the cost of living increases and the retirement salary, I would not be able to afford a sandwich in ten years. Yet, twenty years later one of the young men roared with laughter in recalling the program, but I note that he runs a computer installation of 120 employees.
Finally, retirement. Management Technology practices superb management. I was asked to remain as a part-time teacher, a position that lasted five and a half years. When the department solicited my advice about problems, I assured them, “It is your problem now.” What fun!
Extra chores were eliminated, as my strength and energy waned, permitting me to devote full-time to being a good teacher. An overwhelming joy! The department always found a reason for me to remain another semester. Would I share tests, course outlines, and lesson plans with a teacher from another department new to business law but who would be out of a job due to insufficient enrollment in his present department? Can you imagine me—retired and on the way out—being given the privilege of saving another excellent teacher’s job?
MC was special.
Takoma Park and Rockville Campuses: Department of Business Administration and Economics; Department of Management Technology, 1956–1976; Professor Emerita.