How do you turn 4,200 perfect strangers into Trojans?
On a balmy June night, 350 young men and women clap in rhythm, ball their fists and pump them fast. Brows furrowed in concentration, they take their first stab at the USC spellout. “Oh! Hey! Oh! Hey–hey–hey–hey–hey! S-O-U-T-H-E-R-N C-A-L-I-F-O-R-N-I-A Southern California!” Welcome to Orientation, a two-day, full-body immersion in all things Trojan. Part infotainment event, part registration and advisement blitz, part group therapy, Orientation is repeated seven times over the summer months for the benefit of 2,700 incoming freshmen and their parents. Condensed daylong sessions are held for 1,500 transfer students, and there’s even a road-show format that travels to Honolulu and Hong Kong. It’s an all-university extravaganza orchestrated, in the words of one admiring parent participant (a retired Navy Seal), “with the precision of a military machine.” Director Tom Studdert indeed runs a tight ship, with a skeleton crew of two professional staffers, two graduate fellows and 25 student orientation advisers (OAs). “First and foremost,” he reminds his staff, “the goal is to introduce students to the academic experience and make sure they understand their rights and responsibilities as scholars.”
USC’s Orientation has undergone big changes in recent years. Formerly a bureaucratic affair that included sitting for placement tests, posing for ID cards and filling out stacks of forms, it has morphed into something far more interesting and educational. Web tools have divorced the process from such chores as choosing a meal plan, getting a housing assignment and applying for a parking pass, since students have already completed these tasks electronically. The newcomers also have scrolled through such essential reading as the SCampus guide and the course catalogue. Which leaves ample time for Studdert and his staff to get them ready – emotionally, intellectually and physically – for the real challenges ahead. Over two days, there will be a faculty lecture, a slam poetry performance, a pep rally, campus and residence hall tours, an “expo” with representatives from scores of campus and student organizations, five meals, and a smorgasbord of workshops with catchy titles like “How I Got an F on My A Paper” and “Is College Really That Different?” Throughout the program, students will meet in small groups with their designated orientation adviser – an upperclassman who has trained a year for the job. They will come together repeatedly to discuss sensitive topics ranging from sexuality to academic integrity to drug abuse. The bond formed between OAs and their advisees during these two days can last through the college years and beyond, notes associate dean of students Amy Johnson, Studdert’s supervisor and his predecessor as USC’s Orientation director. Clearly it’s not a role to be undertaken lightly. And it isn’t. OAs are handpicked to reflect a diversity of majors, interests and geographical and cultural backgrounds. Collectively, their GPA stands at 3.7. Candidates must go through a rigorous application process in the fall (only a third make the cut) and enroll in Studdert’s theory-based education counseling course in the spring. Plus weeks of hands-on training. “I can teach anybody to give a campus tour,” says Studdert of his high standards. “I can teach anyone to respond robotically to questions. But I want them to understand why students and parents are asking that question.” The pay isn’t great: $3,000 (with housing) for eight weeks of hard work, including 15-hour days when Orientation is in full swing. But the experience is priceless. “Two of my favorite things are being here at USC and helping people,” says OA Shane Swerdlow, a junior double-majoring in business and public policy. “I get to do both in this job.”
In olden days, Orientation was a purely social affair. Early editions of El Rodeo describe “smokers” for the young men, teas and fashion shows for the young women. Today, there’s both more and less at stake. Less, because Orientation no longer plays a “conversion role” in admissions. These students don’t need any convincing; they’ve committed to attend USC. And more, because research shows a first-rate orientation program translates to significantly higher retention rates – a crucial yardstick in measuring a university’s academic excellence. With 18 schools, 95 majors, nearly 700 student organizations and 16,500 undergraduates, USC can be an intimidating place. “By the middle of the first semester, we see students who really don’t know what hit them,” says Debbie Bernstein, director of advisement at USC College. “The adjustment is sometimes very difficult.” To help them get off to a good start, early on the first day students break out by school to meet their academic advisers. Eighteen sessions run simultaneously, each a 90-minute presentation covering major requirements, the core curriculum, electives, research opportunities, service learning, internships, study abroad and so on. Bernstein leads the biggest group – the undecided/undeclared majors. USC College lays claim to the lion’s share of freshmen – about 1,200 a year – and roughly half of those will enter as undecided majors. (Bernstein prefers to think of them as “open-minded.” She notes: “At 17, they’re all undecided, really, whether or not they’ve checked the box on the application.”) Advisers and advisees will meet again the following afternoon to tackle course registration. This, too, is now fully digital.
Orientation is seen as a linchpin in a successful transition from the dependency of childhood to independent college life. The dynamics between parents and students as they navigate their way through Orientation offer a study in contrasts. Some students walk yards ahead, their body language communicating an eagerness to break away. Others cling. Patrice Barber has seen both extremes. A nutritionist with Dining Services, she co-teaches, along with colleagues in occupational therapy and recreational sports, a workshop called “Putting It Together,” on striking the right balance between study, sleep, social activities, eating and exercise. By spreading Orientation across the summer, Studdert reinforces USC’s reputation as a big university with a small-college feel. This “high-touch” approach – labor intensive and costly as it is – keeps everyone involved mindful that these students are not just ID numbers. “Their parents have trusted us with their most precious treasure.” Toward the end of Orientation, while the students are registering for classes, their parents gather for one last session, “Parenting Through the College Years,” which feels like a giant therapy session. Led by professional staff from Student Counseling Services, it begins with an audio essay from a 1994 broadcast of NPR’s All Things Considered. The speaker – a mother newly separated from her college-bound son – describes in hilarious and heart-rending detail her bout with empty-nest syndrome. When the audio ends, the counselors open the floor for questions and comments. Studdert helpfully points out the boxes of tissue in the aisles. It never fails, he says, having attended more than 40 of these sessions in his three years at USC. For the next half hour, tears and laughter, sniffles and reassurance flow freely as parents pass the mike – confiding their fears as well as their hopes concerning the changes to come.
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