College at your fingertips

It is no secret that I am a huge fan of technology and online learning. My children go to school online and I love it. However, what of higher education? Is online credible, worthwhile? Is it for you?

It can be quite confusing to decide which college to choose for online schooling. There are of course some names that stand out like University of Phoenix which in my humble opinion as an educator is quite robust, with sound programs and highly qualified lecturers. What of others?

I mean do you just pick the ones that show up on the first page of your Google search. Investing in education should not be taken lightly and so I have found a fabulous site to help you sort through those search results.

I like this site quite a bit OS short for Online Schools. Here is the link.

There are a few things I appreciate about this site.

  • The fact you can refine your search in a number of ways – like state, degree program, degree level and whether or not the college requires a standardized test like the GMAT or SAT.

  • I also appreciate how when you scroll down – and do scroll down (much of the valuable stuff is at the bottom of the page), that it has a fun guide so you can determine if online school is even a right fit for your personality and lifestyle. Here is the e-book link

  • I also am impressed that they have not excluded certificates and diplomas, online training programs and technology certifications

It is definitely worth a look. I will put a link to the online school finder on the College Bound Page of this site.  You can also take advantage of our College Matching service.Don’t forget to share the post and follow my blog.

A Caribbean Story – Over the Wall (written by Tamu Petra Browne)

“I hate hanging clothes on the line”, I mumbled under my breath, careful that my mother did not hear me. She had the ears of the wind – everywhere all at once.

“So do I.” I stopped, shocked – clothespin squeezed.  Was that a voice I heard? Perhaps the mango yellow sun was so hot, that I was hearing things. I wandered over to the chipped greying wall near the pink hibiscuses the color of my favorite church dress.

I stood still, barely breathing. I strained my ears to hear until I was sure they would jump off my head. I willed my eardrums to block the thumping sounds of one neighbor’s reggae beats blasting through the air, the other’s television turned up on a million, listening to the excited cricket commentators.

It was in vain. I did not hear the voice again. Back to the line I go, clothespins pinching the edge of my T shirt. As I swayed to the thumping beats from my neighbor’s sound system, I began thinking that the voice came from the mystery neighbor opposite my clothes line. The house was hidden behind huge golden apple and breadfruit trees, swollen pawpaws and happy mango trees filled with fruit. All so thick they almost blocked the sky and surely blocked any view of the house and people inside.

“Hmmmmmm.” I heard – a huge sigh I heard just behind the fortress of trees, somewhere beyond the bird pecked mangoes on the other side. No – I was not hearing things or suffering from sun stroke – it was a voice! A human voice, a voice of another tortured little girl, My Saturday soul mate who sighed out loud and not in her mind like me. We would have lots in common I could tell!

I had made up my mind. I approached the wall of trees, the yellow fruit, the red and purple flowers, the sugar laden fruits and said….”Hello…hellooooo.” “Hi” came back a squeaky but decidedly girlie voice. I had to see who was there. I hoisted myself on top the wall, scraping my knees and arms in the process. The wall was hot from sitting all day in the sun. My palms burned but I had to see. I prayed I would not fall but I was more afraid that my Mommy would see me climbing into someone else’s yard! But I had to see.

Panting, and scraped I finally was perched on top and I looked down into a yard never before seen – well not by me anyway and there I saw a little girl, with her hair plaited in neat corn rows, just like mine. But she was sooooooooooooo little. She was barely three feet tall but 11 years old she whispered when I asked her. We chatted about this and that, then and now, pets and bullies. Everything.

“Nyam Nyam” I heard bolting through the air. “Stop day dreaming, stop being idle! You are just standing there with the pins in your hands! Every Saturday it’s the same story with you.”

There was no tiny girl, there was no Saturday soul mate over the wall. There was just me and two buckets of clothes and my only friend was the stinging yellow sun.

Written by Tamu Petra Browne