KANSAN.COM / THE UNIVERSITY DAILY KANSAN / FRIDAY, APRIL 29, 2011 / NEWS
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11 p.m. — Yong Zhang, a master of architecture student from Chengdu, China, in his fourth year, makes tea around 11 p.m. on Tuesday in a Marvin Hall studio. While caffine is the drug of choice for most students low on sleep and time, many resort to more potent options, such as prescription drugs and marijuana.
"I wouldn't be in architecture if I didn't enjoy it," she said. "It's exciting and I love it, and that's what keeps me here. It's just that it's an abusive environment."
As generations pass through these programs, traditions are established and expectations are imposed on those who follow. The result: Academic cultures where overwork is normal and the most talented, driven and dedicated students are often most at risk. Time is not on their side.
At the height of England's Industrial Revolution, working-class men, women and children regularly worked between 60 and 85 hours each week in unhealthy conditions with little pay. In 1817, a labor reformer named Robert Owen championed the radical notion of an eight-hour workday, under the slogan "Eight hours labor, eight hours recreation, eight hours rest." Factory owners ridiculed the concept, but it took root.
America's eight-hour movement bloomed in 1938 when Franklin D. Roosevelt signed the Fair Labor Standards Act that established the now-standard 40-hour workweek as well as overtime pay. Over more than a century, developed countries across the world realized healthy and sane societies need balance, and productivity requires rest.
--street — the friends, the partying — couldn't seem farther away.
Yet some 70 years later, some college programs preserve a bubble in American society where overwork is not only tolerated, but enabled, nurtured and praised.
During orientation meetings, many U.S. universities tell students that for each hour spent in class they should expect to spend two to three hours outside of class studying or finishing homework.
A University of Central Arkansas Web page put it this way:
"According to experts, the rule of thumb is for every one hour in class, students should spend approximately two hours outside of class studying and doing homework. We encourage students to view their academics as a full-time job. If they spend 15 hours a week in class, they need to spend approximately 25 to 30 hours outside of class doing homework, making it a 40 to 45 hour work-week."
The KU School of Engineering suggests two to three hours. An accounting program at Auburn University recommends three to four.
"I don't know where it originates," Barbara Barnett, associate dean of the School of Journalism, said of the rule. "But I was told the same thing when I was in college, so it's been around for a while."
Belushi-type frat boy who does keg stands and crashes on couches of stacked pizza boxes. Indeed, the 2010 National Survey of Student Engagement reports that only nine percent of seniors surveyed at major research universities study more than 30 hours per week. But what the survey doesn't explore are
"You reach a breaking point, physically. Everyone seems to fall apart."
Before cooking a ham, a woman always cut off the end and threw it away. When her husband asked her why, she said her mother did it that way. When the woman asked her mother about it, the mother said she cut off the end because her mother always did it. When the
Barnett explained the ratio's logic, or lack of logic, with a story.
NICK FRATTA A junior in architecture
Leading out the back door of Marvin Hall, a concrete pathway winds down the hill to a tunnel beneath Naismith Drive. On the other side is Eaton Hall, where silent students sit at long rows of computers, typing. They're com-
the vast differences between expectations of liberal arts students and those in professional programs.
A liberal arts degree equips students with critical thinking skills valued in a variety of jobs, but lacks a professional school's narrow focus on job skills. While an English major may not study two or three hours for every hour of class, an engineer likely will. Denise Stone, a professor in visual art education, agrees.
"I've never known a faculty member who let a ratio keep them from assigning an amount of work," she said. Stone noted that heavier course loads in professional programs reflect pressures to meet stringent accreditation standards and the requisites of a job.
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On a Saturday at midnight, the KU campus is a dichotomy. Two groups of students counterbalance Jayhawk Boulevard, the winding road that is the campus main drag. Near its eastern end, partying masses spill out of The Wheel and
puter science majors writing code, training to be software designers and web developers. David Jones, a junior, built a music program from scratch that lets users make original compositions. Lizzie Alonzi designed inventory software for hospitals. She stayed up two days straight creating it. The trick with coding is that it tolerates no mistakes. You have to get it just right, even if that means working Saturdays past midnight.
A stone's throw behind Eaton is Learned Hall, the oldest engineering building, where Jayhawk Motorsports is housed. There are fewer computers here, more grease and machinery. On any given night, Tim Moran, a senior in mechanical engineering, is here, working on the car's powertrain. Despite enrolling in just nine credit hours to allow for the class' time commitment, he spent the entire night in the shop three times this week, each night mustering a few hours of sleep on a ratty, worn couch near the back. When Moran works until 3 a.m., but has to be on campus at 8 a.m., the drive back to Eudora seems pointless.
when I can stay here?" he said. "If I go three or four days without sleep, I'll crash for eight hours, which is oversleeping."
Cameron Bryant, another student on the project, unwraps a sandwich from Jimmy John's as Robert Sorem, associate dean of engineering and the sponsor of Javah Motor sports, approaches.
"Hey, go wash your hands before you eat that sandwich," Sorem says.
"Nah, it's good for your immune system," jokes another student.
"Yeah." Bryant says, smiling, "We never get sick."
However, Bryant remembers the semester when Red Bull sponsored the team, donating large quantities of energy drinks to the shop. Bryant drank three cans each day to stay awake during long days at the shop. This lasted until the day a tightening knot in his stomach buckled him over and he was rushed to the hospital. When the doctor blamed too much Red Bull and too little sleep, he put Bryant on a strict diet, something inconvenient to shop life.
"Will this kill me if I don't follow it?" Bryant asked.
"OK," replied Bryant. He chose pain.
"No," the doctor said, "you'll just live in pain."
"Why waste 30 minutes of sleep
Sorem said that the health effects of long hours, poor diets and high stress aren't discussed much in the shop. He trusts students to know their own limits and manage time accordingly.
Steven Heger leans over, swiftly cleaning barrels of metallic stripping out of a machine. He pauses for a rare moment, scratching his light-red beard.
"Certainly the expectation is two to three hours at KU for every credit hour you enroll," he said, citing the oft-cited ratio. "Ten to 12 hours is expected, but it's more than that. Some spend 90 hours easy, others 20. What matters is you commit up front."
A dry-erase board above Heger features feminine handwriting that reads: "Erin Brown is the best thing that ever happened to me." He proposed to Brown, a senior and member of The Kansan's editorial board, last December, on their seventh anniversary as a couple. Both from Wichita, they met as dance partners in a high school choir.
Heger's passion used to be baseball. He played as a freshman at a small college, but an injury ended baseball and led to a transfer to the University, where Brown had enrolled in journalism. Heger enrolled in the School of Engineering, and for those first years they were inseparable.
"We saw each other every day, ate at the dining hall every night together. It was never a question that we would see each other," said Brown. "A lot of things changed though."
To say Heger is passionate about the cars would be an understatement. "I spend more time here than anywhere else," he said. "I love this place and everyone that comes in here."
The motorsports shop carries undeniable camaraderie and has replaced baseball as the outlet for Heger's drive and focus. Bryant, who Heger met last year, will be the best man at his wedding. The shop carries great expectations, too. Each of the 15 seniors on the project has specific assignments. When those are done, they're expected to continue coming in to pick up loose ends. It's not uncommon for Heger and his teammates to not go home until 4 a.m. — if at all. As the car's deadline approaches, the hours grow longer and he sees his fiancee less.
"We've fought more often because of the car," Heger said. "She doesn't understand I can't be home. And that's hard."
Heger originally guarded Sundays as the one day he and Brown would spend together, finishing homework, buying groceries or simply relaxing. But as the car nears completion, he's been working Sundays, too.
“Am I jealous of the car? It was hard at first,” Brown said. “This rhythm has become the norm for us, these crazy schedules of not seeing each other. But I love him and he loves doing all that.”
Through the strain put on their relationship by Heger's program, they keep their eyes focused on fall. Heger will attend competitions for the car all summer, but the wedding is Oct. 8.
Brown worries about Hegen's health, too. Last spring, at age 21, he was diagnosed with diabetes, which calls for a specific diet and rest.
"He likes to pretend he doesn't have a breaking point or human limitations." Brown said. "That worries me."
"My mom has suggested we drive off from the wedding in the formula car," she says, half-joking. "But you can't fit two riders in it."
At the entrance to Eaton Hall's
Self Computing Commons, a large, 5-foot dry erase board reads in bold red: "NO FOOD, NO DRINK." A nearby poster reiterates, adorned with blurry images of Pepsi cans and pizza: "WARNING: No food, or chewing tobacco products in the labs! Third offense: Disciplinary meeting with the Assistant Dean of Engineering."
"It's too much. It's brutal."
LIZZY ALONZI
A junior in computer science
Within 30 feet of the entrance, however, two students sit hunched over Gateway laptops, one eating fruit snacks, the other drinking a large Mountain Dew. When a program creates enough demand for its facilities to never close, certain rules are ignored. During the long hours at Eaton, smuggled food is both a welcome diversion and a sustaining necessity. In the back corner of a room full of Linux computers, Lizzie Alonzi, Jason Chen and Claire Bangole spread their wares.
"OK, so I brought a 5-hour Energy, a microwavable meal and my M&Ms," says Alonzi. "Claire ordered Jimmy Johns. Jason was going to order a pizza."
Like the mechanical engineers at Learned, the programmers occupying Eaton at this late hour share deep friendships and respect akin to soldiers who've served together in battle, the deep bonds of long hours and mutual misery. "The community is tight-knit," Alonzi says. "We would do anything for each other."
But the digital battlefield of zeroes and ones is endured in an office chair, a slower and more silent pace than the building of racecars. Keyboard clicks punctuate the silence.
Alonzi arrived about 16 hours ago, at 7:45 a.m. Banglore showed up shortly after. Chen arrived at 7 p.m and plans to work all night. They wear hoodies with sweatpants or athletic shorts, the comfort clothing of academic endurance.
"I might stay as late as Lizzy, until one, like yesterday," Bangole says.
"To be fair, I did leave," Alonzi says. "That's when I got the 5-hour Energy."
Last spring was Alonzi's roughest semester. She took Programming II, a class densely described in the course catalog as, "Basic notions of algorithmic efficiency and performance analysis in the context of sorting algorithms." Alonzi spent about 30 hours each week on class homework, on top of her 13 other credit hours. It's not uncommon for a student to fail Programming II and take it two, even three times.
STEVEN HEGER A senior in mechanical engineering
"I spend more time here than anywhere else. I love this place and everyone that comes in here."
Her diet consisted mostly of Slim Fast shakes, not to lose weight, but for portability.
"My mental health was
two finally asked the grandmother why she cut off the end of the ham, she said, "Oh, I just never had a pan big enough."
If students enroll in an average course load of 15 hours at a 1:3 classroom-to-coursework ratio, they should expect to spend 15 hours in class each week. That means 45 hours spent on homework, a total of 60 hours weekly. If attending college were a waged job, the last 20 hours would be considered overtime. That leaves little time for a part-time job, something many students need in a sluggish economy. A 2006 study by consulting firm O'Donnell and Associates found that 49 percent of college students work part-time about 16 hours per week — a possible grand total of 76 hours spent each week.
Some norms pass through generations without ever being questioned.
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The idea of a college student working 76 hours, mostly unpaid, defies America's image of the typical college student -- a John
The Hawk, two longstanding bars just outside the dry campus. Young men in collared shirts and ball caps sit on The Wheel's porch drinking Bud Light and discussing sports. Gaggles of young women in skirts and high heels navigate the steep sidewalks of Mount Oread. This is the college life shown in movies. Youth. Alcohol. Revelry.
On Jayhawk Boulevard's western end sits Marvin Hall, known by the architecture students who toil there as "the lighthouse on the hill." Even at midnight, its lights shine brightly from all four floors. Inside, students work in their studios, designing and building models to present later that week. Dani Boyd, a senior, wipes brunette hair from her face and peers intently through thick-framed glasses at a pile of paperboard that will later look like a building. For her, that image of college leisure down the
One woman leans over, vomiting into bushes. A young man, walking away, exclaims, "Ah, drunk girlfriends are THE WORST!"
Ben Pirotte/KANSAN
11 p.m. — Aaron Aday, a master of architecture student from Andale in his fourth year, stares complacently at a project he is working on in studio late into Tuesday night. Architecture students may spend anywhere from 50 to 80 hours in a week working in studio, often foregoing sleep, food and friends.
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