college decision

Yesterday I had the privilege of speaking in Dr. Wilton Bunch's ethics class at Samford University. This is the fifth straight semester that he has extended an invitation to me to talk about restorative justice - specifically about the creation of The Next Door - but the first time that I have spoken to an undergraduate class. I told the students that it was ironic that I had ended up attending Beeson Divinity School at Samford in 2000, because eighteen years earlier as a high school senior, I faced a choice between attending Samford and the University of Tennessee.

During the fall of my senior year, I made a trip to Birmingham with two objectives: to attend a Barry Manilow concert (yes, I was and am a Manilow fan) and to visit Samford. I had arranged to spend the night on campus with my friend, Jan, who was a freshman. Jan and I had attended Franklin High School together, and we were both active members of our church's youth group - playing in the youth handbell choir, singing in the youth choir and girls' ensemble, and participating in a discipleship group. After the concert - which featured Samford's A Cappella Choir on Manilow's rendition of "One Voice" - as Jan and I drove back to campus, she suddenly panicked. "I don't have a pass!" she moaned.

Until that moment, I had not realized that Samford actually locked its students up on campus at night. If you intended to be out after the gates were locked, you had to have a pass signed in advance by your dorm parent to present to the guard at the gate in order to be allowed back on campus. Jan pulled over, rifled through her glove compartment, and discovered an old pass. After forging a new date, we proceeded down Lakeshore Drive to campus. We held our breath as the guard used a flashlight to inspect the pass, then grabbed a phone and made a quick call. After he opened the gate and waved us on, I asked Jan who he had been calling. She explained that not only were the students locked on campus at night, but the girls were also locked in their dorms. The guard had called Jan's dorm mother, alerting her to our arrival so she could unlock the door for us. 

"Wait!" I exclaimed. "Are you telling me that guys are allowed to roam free on campus at night while the girls are locked in their dorms?" Jan nodded. I was appalled. I believe it was at that moment that the balance tipped and I was destined to be a Tennessee Volunteer. This blatant gender inequality, paired with an already restrictive environment, was not what I was looking for in my undergraduate experience. 

I'm glad that God had a plan for me to eventually be both a Vol and a Bulldog, and perhaps one day I will add a third university to my education resume.