NICOLE JENKINS
(The Publisher’s Desk this week is written by
Nicole Jenkins, daughter of Becky Schoolcraft
Stalnaker and granddaughter of Agnes Settles
Schoolcraft. Both were former students of mine
at Calhoun High School. I was impressed by
Nicole’s lifetime goals and her ability to focus
on them, while a teenager. The Calhoun Chronicle
is pleased to give this young lady the
excitement of having a published work. --HM)
Early April of this year, I was
a carefree 17-year-old girl who was offered a
chance to throw away a week of her precious
summer at Wheeling Jesuit University to learn
how to be an educated, political citizen . . .
yuck! My mother was delighted and encouraged
(threatened) me to accept the offer. She gave me
two options: go peacefully, or go anyway. I
reluctantly chose the first option, but when I
returned from my stay at Rhododendron Girls
State, I came back more of a woman than I had
ever been.
June 12, I rode for nearly four
hours in the back of my Ford Escort from
Glenville to big city Wheeling. On top of the
anxiety of being thrown into a place where I
knew absolutely no one (I was the only one from
my school) and being away from home for a whole
week (something I wasn’t used to), I was also
car sick. Needless to say, I wasn’t a very happy
camper, literally.
The sign that stood at the
entrance of the campus read, “Rhododendron
Girl’s State, Welcome to Wheeling Jesuit
University,” but I could have sworn it said,
“Welcome to Prison.” We weren’t allowed any
visitors, and if we left before we completed the
full week, we had to pay our sponsor back every
dime. Oh, and unauthorized male visitors were to
be escorted off campus by the state police. I
thought it was going to be the worse week of my
life!
I remember thinking that the
dorms were so bad that I turned to Mom and said,
“You can’t leave me here.” Well, she did, and I
thought for sure I’d die before Wednesday.
Thankfully, the girls that shared my suite
(ironic, huh?) were so nice that they had to
welcome me. I stayed in their room until my
roommate arrived. She, too, was very easy to get
along with, and within an hour I had made three
new Christian friends. The idea of survival
actually seemed to become possible.
After two days of classes ended,
we got into public discussions, and I slowly
began to realize that this program wasn’t just
for promoting political activity in young women.
It was also to assist teenage girls in
discovering essential hidden traits within
themselves that will help them grow into
intelligent, charismatic women. A part of
achieving that goal was separating the girls
from the security of old friends and forcing
them to make new friends.
I experienced that first-hand,
and I became very depressed by my third day.
Finally, my roommate offered to talk to me, so I
opened up to her. That day, I learned three very
valuable lessons. Number one: The world doesn’t
revolve around me. Number two: If you don’t “fit
in” then try letting yourself “fit in.” Number
three: Take everything with a grain of salt.
When I allowed myself to take
those lessons to heart, I began having the time
of my life! I even cried when I had to leave,
swearing Girl’s State was a cruel government
operation that plucked you from normal life,
forced you to make new friends, and then made
you leave them behind. Of course, I got many a
strange look when I announced that to all the
girls in my suite.
For once I was glad Mom
“insisted” that I participate in such an
activity as Girl’s State. So many memories were
made, and so many lessons were learned. I
reviewed them all with her on the way home,
trying to ignore that annoying I-told-you-so
expression that was plastered across her face.
It took only a few days to
realize I had become a totally different person.
My “prison” had turned out to be a finishing
school for the soul, after all. Everyone has
experiences that trans-form them, and
Rhododendron Girl’s State helped set my
transition to womanhood into motion. I’ll
forever be a Girl’s State girl.
--Nicole Jenkins