Robyn St. Peter says she never believed a college education was in her stars. For one thing, it was expensive. For another, “I never thought I was smart enough.” She’s worked as a firefighter, EMT, LNA, and special education paraprofessional.
Kris Matheson is obsessed with socks. He brags about the drawers full of them he has at home, and the fancy materials they’re made of, like merino wool and something called Coolmax; he ogles the rows of sewing machines that knit them inside the Cabot Hosiery Mills in Northfield, where Darn Tough socks are made.
Cathy Solsaa is a talented, busy person. She’s a longarm quilter, a wife, and a mother of four. She has a degree in economics. She’s a massage therapist, and she helps run her husband’s contracting business. “I’m sort of a seeker, a learner,” she says.
“I don’t think there’s been a day that’s passed by that I haven’t thought about working at Hazelett.” Tyler Schmoll is young, bearded, and stoic. Sitting next to Tyler in a matching easy chair (and in matching company-issued duds) is his twin brother, Cody.
Like the 300 fully online courses that CCV offers each semester, telepresence courses are all about access for students.
Today is the last full day of our adventure. We have seen so many monuments of history and culture. Today being Sunday, there was a lot of foot traffic on the streets. People walking to work, the local boulangerie, a café, or the markets.
On Friday, December 8th, the Rutland center held its biannual Cafe CCV, a showcase of different visual and performing arts classes held at the center. In Winooski, the CCV Guitar 1 class and the Community Chorus held a musical performance. And at the Montpelier center, three different art classes were highlighted in an end-of-semester art show.
“I didn’t work well with school, but I was smart. I would skip school and go read books,” says Richard Witting. He dropped out of high school at 17, tried a few classes at CCV, and then moved to the West Coast for more than a decade. In Portland and San Francisco, he returned to familiar work: food.
You can tell a native New Yorker from a non-native by how aware they choose to be of their presence on the subway. They sleep, ensured by their city-formed adaptation to waking up just before their stop. They read books. Before cell phones, newspapers were likely a popular form of dissociating.