There's no question in Christian Sullivan's mind what is his favorite class in his first semester at college. It's University 101 - the class that's all about, well, how to be a student in the first semester in college.
Sullivan, a freshman from Columbia at the University of Maryland, College Park, is having trouble in his English course and is unsure about his major. But when he comes to University 101, a required course for many freshmen, things seem to clear up. The class has taught him how to manage his time, how to approach professors and, in general, how to survive life as a college rookie.
Plus, there's hardly any homework.
"I love it. Honestly, I would've failed out a long time ago if it wasn't for this class," Sullivan said last week, as he and his University 101 classmates learned how to register for spring courses. "It gives me a place to talk about my problems. It gets you acquainted with campus."
Such an endorsement heartens college officials who are behind a striking trend in higher education - the expansion of freshmen orientation into full-semester, for-credit courses.
Not long ago, most colleges offered freshmen a few days of orientation in late summer, then let them adapt to college on their own, usually with the help of resident advisers or faculty mentors. Now, more than half of colleges offer, and often require, fall semester classes where students get course credit for discussing their life goals, debating campus diversity and learning how to use the library.
This fall, the trend arrived at the Johns Hopkins University, a school with a reputation for leaving students to their own devices. The undergraduate college offered five sections of Hopkins 101, a nine-week pilot course for 100 freshmen that included a tour of Baltimore, an outdoor team-building session, and a session on Hopkins' history and traditions. The class, which will be expanded and likely will be offered for credit in coming years, even has a section on study skills.
"We understand that students who come to Hopkins are top-notch, but many didn't have to study hard in high school," said David Mainella, Hopkins' associate director of development, who helped design the course. "We teach them about note-taking, test-taking, getting them to understand how time is different in college."
Reduce dropout rate
Nationwide, the classes are intended to reduce the dropout rate during or after freshman year and to encourage students to get more out of their college experience. Some officials hope the courses will counter a sharp decrease in time students spend studying - a recent survey by Indiana University found that 20 percent of full-time freshmen at four-year colleges study no more than five hours a week.
"More and more of these things are being created," said Mary Stuart Hunter, who directs the National Resource Center for the First-Year Experience and Students in Transition, a research center at the University of South Carolina.
"Student persistence is definitely a factor for some institutions in creating something like this," Hunter said. "Others are looking for ways for students to do better in their learning."
The courses have proliferated despite the misgivings of some faculty and administrators. Critics argue that part of the value of college lies in students adapting on their own. They also question giving credit for courses that at times resemble summer camp more than a college seminar.
Others acknowledge that the courses are not rigorous, but say that they can help provoke discussions and strengthen bonds among students and faculty, if done correctly.
"Sometimes, some of the topics we start out with can be a little painful," said Sanford Ungar, president of Goucher College, which two years ago started an orientation course called Connections. "But once you get beyond the questions of 'why are we here' and 'what are the liberal arts' there can be some terrific conversations."
The Connections course grew out of an earlier noncredit program for freshmen that was run by Goucher's student-life staff. Now, faculty and staff join to teach the course, which is worth one credit and includes discussions of class-debate etiquette and how to choose a career.
Faculty members say they don't mind teaching the course, but wish some students would take the classes more seriously.
"These are not bad things to talk about," said Kaushik Bagchi, a Goucher history professor who taught Connections last year. "All these things - alcohol, time management, sex - affect what happens in our classroom, affect the performance of our students."
At the University of Maryland, most students say they appreciate the orientation courses. That might be because the small classes offer a refuge from their sprawling campus and large lecture classes.
The College Park courses debuted in an experimental form about 15 years ago and spread rapidly in recent years. About 1,600 students are enrolled in 90 sections - almost all freshmen who are not on separate tracks, such as the Honors Program.
In University 100, a one-credit course, students take the Myers-Briggs personality test, interview one of their professors, keep a journal and have sessions on substance abuse and rape. University 101 is a two-credit variation with instruction in UM's computer resources.
Faculty and staff teach the courses with the help of upperclassmen, who take a four-credit course to reflect on what they've learned from teaching the class.
In a University 101 section last week focused on diversity, Gerry Strumpf, UM's director of orientation, had her students take the "privilege walk," an exercise meant to show the challenges that minorities face. Students stood in a row and then took steps forward or back depending on whether they were white or black, male or female, gay or straight.
"Now, look who's at the front," Strumpf said, nodding at Keith Lancaster, a white zoology major from Pennsylvania. "Isn't that interesting? Now, what did you all think about where you were standing?"
Next, students were told to write their "deepest, darkest secret" on a scrap of paper and to consider what it would feel like if others in the room saw what they had written. This, Strumpf said, should give the students some idea of what homosexuals feel in deciding whether to tell someone that they're gay.
Having a home base
University 100 and 101 students say it can be unnerving to get so personal, but that they like having a home base where they can let down their guard.
"When you come to college, you think you're going to be an adult right away, but we're not," said Melissa Rodgers, an education major from New Jersey. "It's not like, 'Click, I'm an adult.' It's nice to have someone there to reassure you."
Sullivan, the freshman from Columbia, said he would probably learn some of the course's lessons on his own - but maybe not before it was too late.
"It's not that you wouldn't figure it out," he said. "It's figuring it out before you screw everything up."