Senior Students

Last week on campus, the large classroom buzzed with conversation. An important project and presentation were due in statistical epidemiology. Two students greeted each other before gearing up for the project and entering the room, seeming to draw on each other’s strength, nervously.

“Hey man.”

“How’s it going?”

The two men clasped hands and bumped shoulders.

A little informal, given that one was 76 years old.

Some students are delaying their college experience because of the state of the economy. But a group of students are returning to college, even after having full careers lasting more than 25 years.

The age 65 and over program allows senior citizens to take a certain amount of classes for free. Tests are optional and the only cost to the senior-aged student is the book.

In other states, this program is already established. New York’s state legislature adopted the practice in 1974, according to New York Senator Tom Libous’ Web site. A number of states, including Alaska, Connecticut, Florida, Illinois, Maryland, Minnesota, New Jersey, Vermont, and Virginia, had these statewide tuition waiver programs for senior citizens established by 2006, according to U.S. News and World Report.

Now, all states have some sort of senior or advanced adult program, according to the Senior Resource Web site. In Arkansas, these featured programs a

James “Jim” Johnson, 76, the oldest registered student at UA chose to attend classes because of the age 65 and over program. Johnson believes this is a great program because it enables seniors to take classes they enjoy, gives them a chance to help younger students and a way to stay active.

He now carefully balances his life as a senior and life as a student.

Johnson is involved in the Springdale Rotary Club, Kiwanis and the Lions program. He sends 600 personalized Christmas cards written with blue ink each year because he values keeping in touch with friends by writing letters, since “an e-mail will never be personal.” Johnson writes so often that he keeps the same grey envelopes and blue pens handy for note cards and other greetings. “We don’t say thank you enough,” he said.

He wears a sports jacket and tie when meeting someone on business or attending Rotary Club meetings, but is not afraid of dressing like and interacting with students much younger than him.

Tuesdays and Thursdays at the HPER, Johnson is dressed as the other students: gym shorts and white sneakers, as he talks himself up for the racquetball tournament. He can’t help but smile when people ask if he keeps up with the much younger players. “I play the same speed (as they do) because I’ve been playing for 50 years,” he said. “We hit each other and bump around.”

Some of his racquetball competitors say they don’t play full speed against him, but that “you can tell he’s a good player.” This said as Johnson hit the racquetball between his legs toward the opposite wall.

Johnson agrees that some players “take pity on me.” Even still, he believes the sport is a great way to stay active, a priority that people of all ages should have.

“Most of the seniors I know are old,” he said, reflecting on their patterns that make them seem their age in a negative way. “They don’t keep in shape.” Johnson places a high priority on staying healthy.

Johnson attended four colleges, nine military training schools and is now taking a statistical epidemiology course at the UA. When he leaves a class, he says he’s “as happy as if I’d had two doughnuts in the morning.”

After many years of education, Johnson acquired five years of teaching experience in chemistry, physics anatomy and physiology on the upper school level.

Not all of Johnson’s classes have been enjoyable, but he has tempered those interests with dedication.

On the first day of his Advanced Organic Chemistry class, Johnson said, “In the first minute I knew I was in trouble.” But he finished the course anyway and didn’t worry about the grade. He advises taking courses that invigorate and make the student happy.

The best form of education, through which Johnson learned the most during his lengthy educational career, was in an Army management school. There, he said the students and teachers would get in shouting matches and it was “more fun than a barrel of monkeys.” Johnson insists that people are too caught up in being politically correct and that gets in the way of learning. “I am the most non-politically correct person around,” he said.

Johnson's enjoyment of the courses is more crucial than the type of classes that seniors choose to take through the program.

Currently he has a list of 10-12 subjects that he’d like to take and turns to his son for advice on which one to take first. Some of the subjects are areas that Johnson has experience in, but would still like professional training. “I’d like to take ‘Intro to Tap’ and acting. But after Johnson taught profiling and lived in many different regions of the country, Johnson's son believed that his dad had already become an actor by figuring people out and adjusting to the local culture.

Johnson feels that the most pro-active part of the senior-students program is sharing experiences with younger students, interacting with them outside of class and setting good examples. “We all bring different things to the university,” he said.

Personally, he has the experience of two separate careers to bring to UA students, one in Marine Corps and the other in non-profit organization development each lasting 25 years or more.

After interacting with older students and collecting the wisdom of their experiences, Johnson says the student must do the rest of the work. “You get out of the university what you put in it,” he said.

Johnson’s helpfulness extends past students. He spent 30 years of his career in non-profit organization development, which is where he met UA’s current chancellor, David Gearhart. At the time, Gearhart and Johnson were working the same position in development for their organizations.

"Just having (Johnson) in the classroom brings a diversity that students aren't used to having," said Chancellor Gearhart.