G N MO TAE the
ACCESSIBILITY
THE ONGOING BATTLE
Safety and inclusivity in Meramec’s new buildings
Exhibition by Meramec alumnus Craig Norton
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5
Feb
2026
WOMEN’S SOFTBALL Volume 61 Issue 5
Coach Swiderski discusses the team PAGE 8
LifeLong Learner Takes a Detour to Class PATRICIA C. TESSLER
never have accepted such an offer from a stranger, but I was desperate, and the gentleman was as vintage as his car. NOTE: The Montage is pleased to Jumping into the passenger seat, I was present a personal narrative by Patricia immediately transported back to the past Tessler, a 72-year old STLCC student by the roll-down window handles and enrolled in continuing education courses. the static guitar music from the cassette on the dashboard. All I needed were n a b r i g h t S e p t e m b e r my embroidered bell-bottom jeans, morning, the once-familiar and we’d make quite the 1970s couple. sea of cars in the parking A few zigzag detours around the lot at Meramec Community school’s construction zones allowed College had been transformed into a Frank time to talk about his neardesert of Cahokia dirt mounds. At the genius grandchildren and his passion entrance, the sign warned: “DO NOT for taking pottery classes. Meanwhile, ENTER. UNDER CONSTRUCTION.” we had no luck finding the building Plans to appear studious and on time until we stopped a campus security for my first class in 25 years went officer, who gave us perfect directions. down the drain as I nervously drove to Checking my watch, I thanked Frank as a second parking lot (now thinking I he pulled up to the walkway, expressed would be marked tardy). Reliance on my eternal gratitude, and said I’d be on GPS had dulled my natural navigational my way. But being ‘old school,’ Frank skills, so I flagged down an elderly insisted on escorting me to my classroom gentleman just getting out of his old while carrying my notebook and laptop. Toyota, carrying pottery and clay figures. “Well, okay,” I said. Ther e was “Excuse me. I’m trying to find the Science no time to argue, though I, like a West Building, and I’m late for class. Are high school girl, didn’t want my you familiar with the campus?” I asked. classmates to get the wrong impression “I’m not sure where that building is, but that Frank and I were a couple. hop in, and we’ll go find it,” he said. We went down a hallway lined with Under normal circumstances, I would rock and fossil displays, tempting us to GUEST CONTRIBUTOR
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stop and look. Instead, we climbed a flight of stairs to room 108, and I was relieved to see the sign on the door: “WELCOME TO FREELANCE WRITING FOR FUN AND PROFIT I n s t r u c t o r, C h a r l e n e O l d h a m . ” Frank handed me my materials at the door, and we wished each other good luck in our second careers. Mrs. Oldham and the students introduced themselves after I apologized for being late. No one seemed judgmental, including Mrs. Oldham, who later suggested I call her Charlene. I breathed easier as I listened to several younger classmates talk about their professions: a pattern maker for women’s clothing, a realtor and a sports writer. A variety of personalities and expertise filled the room, all with the same desire to write articles about their particular interests. I set up my new contemporary Windows 11 laptop and opened my notebook, quickly filling the blank page with Charlene’s words, pushing me into new territory and wishing to extend the four-hour morning into a full day. We studied the stacks of magazines and books on publishing that Charlene had brought into class and examined interesting articles, including their text features. Later, we visited certain
websites and read blogs by famous writers, including several of Charlene’s published articles. I realized MCC had provided us with a top-notch teacher who was also an experienced writer. At the end of class, Charlene assigned us to write an article for a specific publication and bring it to class the following week. Before returning to my car, I took a self-guided tour of the first-floor rock collection. Some stones were exquisite aqua, others smooth and gray with embedded crystals; all had survived prehistoric ocean waters and terrain. I meandered down a hall to an art exhibition, stopping every few steps to view students’ artwork on the walls. The scent of oil paint and clay drifted from the classrooms, where students were bringing creativity to its highest level. An idea for Charlene’s assignment flashed into my head, and I didn’t have to go far, since the story had taken shape right here in these halls. I would write about how a high-achieving school reaches out not just to the young and hip but also to the old and hippy. We are all students who share creativity, a zest for learning and an appreciation for detours that lead to perfect destinations.
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