Alma Matters: Exposing the Stench

I’ve been out in the “real world” for two years now and I’m noticing a trend. Little by little these PCC scandals are surfacing. I heard rumors of things like this while I attended Pensacola Christian College but never had the desire to dig deeper. No, not because I was brainwashed. It was because I didn’t care to spend my limited free time being sucked into reading a “he said she said” forum. I care to now.

Some of the articles I read online about PCC are just laughable. I literally sit and laugh out loud. I find myself thinking how ridiculous they are and how something like that could never happen at my Alma Matter. Some of the comments, blogs, or articles are clearly full of lies. I place those in the laughable category. On the other hand, some of them actually have merit.

I’m not too proud or too brainwashed to admit that there are issues. I won’t pretend like there was never a time a sweet girl on my floor got kicked out and we didn’t understand why. I won’t pretend like I never saw students sobbing as they left the student life floor. I won’t stand behind all of their rules and I won’t act as if I never wondered if leadership truly cared about us. But I also won’t ignore the fact that there are two sides to every story.

A friend and I joked one day at lunch how there were PCC Gestapo watching us. That’s all it was. A joke. Were there people watching us? Of course! There were chaperones everywhere and probably power hungry students waiting in the bushes to pounce on a senior like myself and drag my name through the mud and straight to student life.  I did my time in student life, I faced the deans. I got demerits and had stand offs with the power hungry. I also broke the rules.

Of course I felt like I had to always look over my shoulder, I knew good and well that 90% of the time my skirt was borderline too short so I was paranoid about getting caught.  That’s not from any kind of mental abuse I endured it’s just simple knowledge of right, wrong, and consequences. If I didn’t like feeling that way I could have a.) Bought longer skirts or b.) Left the college and attended somewhere with a less strict dress code. I chose to live on the edge and deal with the occasional 5 demerits that were going to go away at the end of the semester any way. I’m not condoning breaking rules, I’m just being honest about the choice I made.

To the best of my knowledge, PCC has never forced a student (that didn’t sign a binding work contract) to stay. People make PCC out to be some kind of abusive cult but some fail to realize that they could leave at any time but chose to stay. I’m not into politics or drama and I’m sure that some people do have negative issues in their life from their time at PCC for whatever reason. Maybe they felt like they couldn’t go home or that PCC was their only option for college. Who knows. The point is, there is nobody at the gate keeping students from going home or attending a college better suited for them.

During my time at PCC I dealt with a radical roommate who was so crazy that I had to change rooms for my own protection. Those in leadership didn’t take it serious until I told them they could find me in a different room after lights out and if they wanted to give me demerits that was fine by me. They allowed me to permanently change rooms immediately.

I later received a call slip to see the dean where I was offered the opportunity to become a floor leader. I told her the kind of lenient floor leader I would be and needless to say, I didn’t get the job.

I went home to be in my brother’s wedding which happened to fall on a fine arts weekend. I had to make up the fine arts by watching a super old video of a fine arts performance in the student life office. When I returned from the wedding, there was some kind of mix up with the paperwork and I got a call slip to student life for missing fine arts. I knew I had done nothing wrong and didn’t want to have to go and plead my case. I called my dad, he called student life, and after speaking strongly to them, everything was taken care of and I didn’t have to go before the dean.

I was accused of cheating because a friend and I got tutoring from the same upperclassman and learned how to do something in a project that nobody else in the class knew how to do. Since we were the only two that knew, the teacher decided we must have cheated and gave us both failing grades. He was actually nice about it though and when we met with him and explained, he raised our grades to passing. That wasn’t good enough for my fire ball self so I went to see the dean. She chewed me up, spit me out, and said if I were her student I would get a zero. My plan totally backfired and me and my  barely passing grade left with our tails tucked.

I don’t say all that to bad mouth my college. That’s the last thing I want to do!  My reason for sharing my experiences is to prove that I dealt with ridiculous circumstances and still had the time of my life at PCC! Ridiculous events happen because the college is run by imperfect humans. It’s impossible for them to avoid these things happening from time to time.

I also want to show that I was allowed to stand up for myself and give my opinion with no punishment. I still got my degree, had fun, made friends, met my husband, and enjoy going back to visit every chance I get! At the time, those negative experiences were annoying, I’ll admit that I complained and tears were shed but I got over it and will recommend the college to anyone. Unfair circumstances are everywhere and will always be everywhere. I chose to learn that lesson from my time at PCC, apply it to my life outside of college, and thrive.

She Paints On Armor

My only preface to this poem is this; I’m trading in my painted armor for the real stuff.
“Put on the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil.”
-Eph. 6:11

She paints on armor every day,
skin no longer glowing.
It’s hidden under dark gray paint,
until tears start flowing.

She paints on armor every day,
while marching to the beat.
Until the arrows pierce her skin,
then cries out in defeat.

She paints on armor every day,
while lying to her face.
No room for any joy or frills,
Steel covers what was lace.

She paints on armor every day,
running from the battle.
Her body, all too weak to fight,
now begins to rattle.

She paints on armor every day,
But just to hide her scars.
He gently washes it away,
and says “this battles ours.”

written by Cady Justice

 

 

Alma Matters

I am a survivor of Pensacola Concentration Camp. That’s right, I spent four years of my life walking on pink-colored sidewalks. I wore ankle-length skirts and hose at all times, including when I went to bed at 11:00pm sharp. I was allowed three meals a day but suffered from malnutrition.  I was forced to attend “prayer group” where we mindlessly sang hymns. Preaching was shoved down my throat 8 times a week when I could have been studying. This caused a drastic drop in my GPA. I didn’t make any friends there because everyone is out to turn each other in, you learn to trust no one. I barely made it out alive, but am now able to record my life-changing experiences at PCC.

Did you sense the sarcasm? Do you see the humor? Maybe not. Maybe you’ve never been to Pensacola Christian College. Maybe you’ve only heard stories much like the one I penned above. You’re being deceived. I can’t assure you that every faculty member is on the up and up. I can’t promise that you’ll never encounter a judgmental floor leader who’s out to get you. What I can do is tell you that it’s possible to attend PCC for all four years and have the best time of your life.

Everyone uses the same sidewalks, I’m not sure where the pink and blue rumor came from but I can take a guess. Men and Women have different stairwells and elevators which I personally thought was RIDICULOUS until I experienced first-hand how crowded those areas become. Do you know how easy it is to trip down stairs when you’re rushing to a class or work located across campus? I do, and it’s embarrassing. The elevators become so crowded that you’re literally sucking in to fit. Imagine doing that in a co-ed elevator, it’s a given that a handful of perverted guys would take advantage of that. Guys may be reading this and not see the big deal, but what if it was your girlfriend in the elevator with a handful of perverts? Exactly.

The dress code is not ideal. Knee-length skirts and dresses for the women and khakis with a polo for the men. I got stopped for dress code more times than I care to admit to and I won’t lie, it’s frustrating. However, it’s also life. Dress codes are everywhere from Nordstrom to Home Depot. A mature person will comply with a company dress code because they need a job and a mature person will comply with a college dress code because they need to graduate. You do what you have to do for the time being and when you go home, you put those skinny jeans (or whatever) back on and dress in a way that fits your personal style.

I used to dread the monotonous prayer group until a prayer leader asked us to pray with someone we hadn’t before. I was annoyed because I hate being out of my comfort zone, but I went along. I sat on the floor, facing a sweet woman who I’d never even had a real conversation with, and listened to her pour her heart out to God praying earnestly for me. I was moved. I realized that’s what it’s about, lifting each other up in prayer to help each other.

There is chapel every weekday except Wednesday. Did it take away from study time? Yes. But so does tennis, dating, secretly watching a movie, and skipping class to play frisbee. Moving on, you can spare 45 minutes a day. Chapel is one of the main things I miss. It was just the little pick-me-up in the middle of the day that I needed to keep going.  Sure, they only sing hymns and I craved the praise and worship music I was used to, but I learned to appreciate those hymns. I didn’t, don’t, and probably never will understand the purpose of the hymn honey in the rock but hymns like How Great Thou Art are so eye-opening when you learn the meaning behind it.

I’ll be honest, there are some students in leadership positions who get some kind of pleasure from writing people up. They’re on a power trip and not practicing the love of God. After encountering this rare breed, I learned to smile politely, let them write me up, and walk on. I’m sure you’ve heard of these people but have you heard about the time the VP stood up in front of the student body and reprimanded them for acting that way? I was there when it happened. PCC is not for everyone and I realize God calls young people to other colleges. However, if your reason for not attending PCC is the dress code, rules, chapel, or things along those lines, then you may miss out on the best time of your life. I met my best friends in college, one of those being my husband.

Every Fine Arts performance, formal banquet, tough teacher, chapel service, PE requirement, grumpy floor leader, prayer group, hymn, and dating outing (don’t judge) has shaped me into the well-balanced, educated, and vibrant college graduate that I am today. If you can’t handle it or aren’t willing to try that’s fine, but I urge you to steer clear of being a stumbling block to those who maybe can.

I wish I had time to tell you story after story of the amazing time my friends and I had in college, but instead I’ll just show you pictures.

Wedding in the Woods