A Final (De)grade

The University of Pennsylvania has failed me.

Not in the academic sense, but in the other academic sense.

I'll clarify: I desire to take the maximum recommended courses as determined by my oncologist, and Penn does not wish to accommodate me. My case was petitioned and shut down, and with it my opportunity to (somewhat) comfortably continue my education. Instead, they have unyieldingly offered me the options of 

-  a full course load (to which my oncologist has explicitly objected ) 

- a part time course load with full tuition AND automatic academic probation (a nice, permanent addition to the academic record)

- surrendering my status and privileges as a CAS student and becoming LPS

- leaving.

The decision to continue to take courses is not a foolhardy one, nor one without some basis of understanding of the limitations of my...predicament. Doctors seem to agree that the practice of being "normal", however one chooses to define it, is essential for maintaining the positive psyche necessary to successfully complete treatment. The University of Pennsylvania has decided that it knows better than my oncologist regarding my health. The mindset: Why don't I just leave them alone to deal with healthier, happier students? Or, more forgivingly, we can assume their actions intended to alleviate. Benevolent intention or not, they have just made me all the more stressed, which according to medical professionals will weaken me, my resolve, and ultimately, my chances at recovery. So thank you, University of Pennsylvania, for placing yet another obstacle in my path to relative normalcy, already cluttered with things like hair loss, overwhelming fatigue, potential infertility, oh and the massive tumor in my chest. Who doesn't appreciate a good kick when they're down?

The combative(read: ornery) nature of this post does not go unnoticed. I would like to blame it on the 30 years I've aged in the past few months. The sort of lethargy attributed to years of simply existing.Though the wrinkles haven't developed (yet), there is a sort of grey that has taken over my eyes in place of the usual glint. I am worn down and embittered. Gravity(multiple references here) has hit physically and mentally.

I understand higher education is a service industry. This is not lost on me. The fact that I have to pay full tuition for part time (and be put on probation) as part of a policy to discourage students from "coasting", when in fact part time is the maximum allowable given that I will have chemotherapy cocktails (aka vicious cell-destroying poisons) circulating my body, accurately depicts this notion. Not to mention, going to class will prove difficult when I am confined to a hospital bed for 3 weeks at the end of term. This is not to suggest I do not find myself capable of completing a part-time course load successfully. This is also not to suggest I seek special treatment beyond the recommendation of my Harvard Medical School-trained oncologist.  I intend to contribute to my classes to the best of my abilities, and I hope to be held to such a standard. I simply ask to be accommodated where accommodation is needed. It's not about sympathy, it's about fairness.

Another frustrating aspect is the guise of assistance they paint upon themselves. Support! Advising! Come to us for this session on x,y,z, we'll help you do x,y,z. File a report! Tell your RA!  The means through which problems are supposed to be solved. Yet, in circumstances these means would most useful (I'm going to go out on a limb here and suggest cancer is an extenuating circumstance), they instead choose to adhere to policies and rules that do not acknowledge extraordinary circumstances. They are as black and white as the text in which they are written. To give credit, they do allow one to leave and come back. Or drift off into the world of LPS. But I should not have to choose between going at the full speed I was once able to maintain and stopping entirely. I also should not have to switch into a school of general studies, inconveniencing and potentially endangering to my ability to graduate with my desired major in a reasonable period, in order to accommodate. I should not be penalized (read: put on probation) for desperately trying to continue my education amidst limitations outside of my control.

The policy is unfair and does not support the kind of student it seeks to protect. It fails to consider the needs of the ambitious and determined; the kind of student that demands the challenge Penn is supposed to provide. The kind of student Penn recruits and spits out into the world to make something (exceptional) of him/herself. The kind of student that does not simply "give up" when presented with adversity. This is the stuff of college admissions essays - you should know better. 

So I ask you, University of Pennsylvania, to allow me to do all that I am capable of. Hold me to the standard of excellence assumed when you accepted me (I'm going to assume there was one - go with it).

Here's the plan:

Regardless of what happens over the next few months of surgery, treatment, and hospitalization, I'm going to graduate from the College of Arts and Sciences. Maybe even by my projected graduation date! (I know I'm reaching here.) I would make some sort of statement asserting "you can't stop me," but I feel that would be excessive, and too easily considered a dare. 

I understand that cancer makes the assertion of future goals presumptuous. But I refuse to allow this affliction to define me. I wish you would do the same.