COMMUNITY PERSPECTIVE: LOUIS CARUFEL
Last May, I surprised the hell out of myself. I completed my first year of graduate school. So? Well, I’m 76 years old and hadn’t been in a college degree program for 50 years. So, when I started grad school one year ago, I wasn’t sure I could hack the modern college environment. I was an old dog wanting to learn new tricks. Would I embarrass myself in front of young, sharp, up-to-date classmates? Could I navigate the tech-heavy administrative protocols? Would my professors take a septuagenarian student seriously? And the big one: could I afford it?
Alaska is a great state. For senior residents (anyone over 65), tuition at the University of Alaska, including our own UAF, is waived. The only thing a senior pays for is the UAF Consolidated and Infrastructure Fees (roughly $75 per credit). Last semester I took three classes (nine credits), and I paid $675 instead of a crushing $5,715. Included for that $675 were emergency counseling and health services, recreation and fitness facilities, student government activities, digital resources (including campus wireless networks and software), access to the Student Success Center and student discounts. Although I still pay to park, I plug my car in during winter for free. But the biggest bang for my buck was admission to nine hours of class time every week for 14 weeks. That’s a tad over $5 an hour for a world-class education.
I chose to pursue a Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing, one of UAF’s many majors. Native Alaskan studies, Arctic research and atmospheric science (UAF is a world leader in those fields) are popular, as are computer science, economics, history, political science, earth science, geology and business. I could have chosen art, music or French, but writing’s my thing. In Creative Writing I’ve so far learned how to teach college composition, the pros and cons of critical race theory, that anti-slavery, feminism and industrialism were common themes in 19th-century American literature, how skilled authors apply literary crafts to produce such damn good writing, and about ongoing debates for best practices in education. But the real gain for me was in critical thinking.
Critical thinking means making reasoned choices. It’s closely related to memory, creativity and personal confidence. We use critical thinking when we buy cars, choose friends, raise kids and vote. It’s the mental exercise by which we process information in our brains, then form beliefs and take actions. Therefore, it’s vital to process the information by questioning, recognizing its assumptions and biases, and considering its consequences. In college, we build critical thinking just as we build muscles in gymnasiums.
In a Community Perspective last month (April 9), Kas Knicely warns what happens when we stop thinking critically. We get duped. We get stuck with narrow-minded, prejudicial, ill-considered and shortsighted “excursions” and policies our politicians and economists sometimes pursue. With critical thinking, however, we can circumvent those follies. We can make sound decisions for our communities, our nation and our futures. Critical thinking, Knicely concludes, is the outcome of education.
Many people’s knee-jerk reaction to reports of hantavirus (HPS) aboard a cruise ship was fear. But if we go beyond the alarm of the evening news, we hear experts promise this is not going to be a pandemic similar to COVID-19. Don’t trust the experts? Good call. Experts have erred before. (Think the “unsinkable Titanic,” doctors endorsing smoking, canals on Mars, television’s inevitable demise.) There could be a pandemic after all. So, the hantavirus on a cruise ship: benign or worrisome? Who’s to be trusted? Applying critical thinking, the initial information is questioned, its assumptions and biases noted, its consequences considered. Whatever’s decided, it’s going to be better educated than a knee-jerk reaction.
I’ve completed one semester of a grad school education. Obviously, I’m stoked. I’m looking forward to this semester. Ignorance might be bliss, but education is eye-opening. Looking back at my first year, did I embarrass myself in front of my classmates? Probably. Could I navigate tech-heavy administrative protocols? Sorta. Did my professors take me seriously? Yes. Could I afford graduate school? Obviously. In fact, the most challenging part of going back to college, I found, was getting out of bed in time for class.
Louis Carufel
May 2026