CHEYENNE— I have been a supporter of Laramie County Community College (LCCC) since I was an adult student trying to amass enough credit for a bachelor’s degree.
That was years ago.
At the time I was impressed by the high caliber of all my instructors for a variety of classes from economics to history.
So I really don’t care what name the Cheyenne two-year college picks for its new moniker. My opinion of LCCC as a type-A college will persist.
This name-change is a national trend for community colleges. Most want to get rid of the word “community,” which they regard as a stigma that signaled a second-rate learning institution, according to internet sources.
I don’t think that was LCCC’s motive for a change. Rather, it was to clear up confusion on its location, which is in Cheyenne, in Laramie County, and not the city of Laramie in neighboring Albany County.
I leave to the historians how that Laramie twist came about.
The Cheyenne college also wants a new name to reflect how it has expanded physically and academically, like offering some classes that can lead to a bachelor’s degree.
My LCCC experience began when, with financial help from my then employer, the Casper Star-Tribune, I enrolled in a new program, “University Without Walls” at Loretto Heights in Denver (now part of Regis College).
A Loretto counselor helped me cobble together a list of largely liberal arts courses I needed, and where to get them.
The LCCC list included one of the best classes I ever had anywhere — including the University of Iowa.
It was called philosophy and religion, or something like that. As a small evening class, it had adults with day jobs who were mostly curious or perhaps seeking spirituality.
Our instructor was a deputy county sheriff. Really.
He was an adjunct instructor, meaning not a regular faculty member.
Young, soft spoken and informal, he encouraged lots of comment in the classroom between him and the students and between each other.
Although no student was required to name his or her religious affiliation, a born-again Christian was open when asked by a fellow student about the effect of conversion on his life.
None, he said. He still had the same problems but his attitude was different. It was better.
Our instructor, meanwhile, assigned everyone, individually or with a team, the study of specific religions.
I had an easy one — Islam, and its ritual that requires followers to drop everything, get out their prayer rugs and kneel wherever they were, five times a day.
The toughest assignment went to a young couple who were regular students. It was Taoism. When the reports were due they admitted being flummoxed by this old Asian religion.
All they concluded was that it was like “water running over rocks.”
We also heard from religious leaders who addressed our small class.
They were Greek, Episcopalian, and Jewish leaders, among others.
The young deputy turned out to be a born teacher.
As a result, we were a lively, talkative group. At the break halfway through every class, a core group of six or so of us went to the cafeteria for coffee. There, we hashed over everything we had heard.
The last night of class we again headed for the cafeteria and our table.
We took a straw poll.
The question was, “If you could decide today, which religion would you choose to follow?”
The Jewish religion won unanimously.
Why? Because the rabbi told us that the emphasis of the Jewish religion is to live a good life and then to “Enjoy it. Enjoy it.”
That was it for us. We wanted to be Jewish. We wanted to “Enjoy it.”
Joan Barron can be reached at 307-632-2534 or jmbarron@bresnan.net
