Editor’s note: Contact info for this story is Chloe Gould, 703-864-3432, chloelauria@gmail.com

Stories, photos and videos provided by University of South Carolina journalism students are available to the state’s news publications and websites. We ask that bylines be retained and, when possible, clips be provided for student portfolios. The mailing address is Dr. Deborah Gump, School of Journalism and Mass Communications, University of South Carolina, Columbia, S.C. 29208.

By Chloe Gould
USC School of Journalism

Rows of first-graders sat cross-legged in their elementary school’s library, chattering to kids in other classes in fits of nervous excitement.

They pulled on the laces in their sneakers and were reminded, time and time again, to keep their bottoms on the ground.

“If I see Cocky, I’m going to pee my pants,” said one student at W.B. Goodwin Elementary School in North Charleston.

Their teachers — who clutched digital cameras and beamed with the same giddy smiles as the 105 first-grade students — had told them Cocky was coming. Some asked about the Carolina-clad duck, others about the chicken in the minutes before their special midmorning assembly.

Cocky’s Reading Express is a little bit of magic for underserved classrooms in South Carolina. Student volunteers from the University of South Carolina have read and delivered new books to preschool, kindergarten and first-grade students in every county of the state since 2005.

The project, an effort of the university’s student government and the School of Library and Information Science, has delivered 57,859 books to schools in every county in the state to promote reading skills and academic success.

Since 2010, the program has grown from a few visits to low-income schools to almost weekly visits and after-school family literacy events.

“Really, what we are trying to do is change students’ attitude toward reading, because as we know from the research, if a child isn’t reading on grade level by third grade, they’re going to be behind,” said Kim Jeffcoat, the executive director of the South Carolina Center for Children’s Books and Literacy, the home of the Reading Express.

And, it’s working — a statewide trend toward reading, that is.

Although there hasn’t been much progress in early reading proficiency nationwide, South Carolina has shown improvement. In 1992, 47 percent of S.C. fourth-graders read below the basic level, but in 2009, only 38 percent didn’t meet the standard, according to the National Assessment of Educational Progress.

Jeffcoat said the literacy problem stretches far beyond just reading. A solid foundation in reading leads to an understanding of the financial world and health care system, she said.

Cocky’s Reading Express works to get South Carolina’s elementary-aged children on level so they have a shot at comprehensive, adulthood literacy.

“We focus on a shift in values. Do you value having books in your home? Do you value reading with your children? Do you value public libraries?” Jeffcoat said.

It is starting to click for many people, many families in South Carolina that “literacy in that larger sense means we have a more skilled workforce. It means we can get people out of the cycle of poverty,” Jeffcoat said.

“People are starting to realize that literacy is a key component to a shift in values,” she continued.

The shift is working its way through the stops on Cocky’s Reading Express. At simply the sight of a small group of college students, children’s eyes twinkle. They know the volunteers are from the University of South Carolina, and their teachers already have started encouraging them toward a future in college.

Before the special assembly, and the countdown to a special guest reader outfitted in a Gamecocks Baseball jersey and bright yellow beak, there’s a classroom survey. It’s a 45-minute gauge of the Cocky’s Reading Express mission.

There are just a few simple questions: Do you like to read? Do you have a special place for your books? Would you like to get a book as a gift? Most of the kids who picked the “wrong” answer at W.B. Goodwin — they didn’t like to read or would prefer a video game, or perhaps a puppy — were just confused first-graders.

From there, it’s story time. The student volunteers stand in front of the wide-eyed rows, serving as a semi-celebrity to the kids, and read “Interrupting Chicken” or “Pete the Cat.” The kids – very much struggling with the crossed legs at this point – belt out every line of the latter: “I love my white shoes, I love my white shoes, I love my white shoes” with the swagger only one who knows the book can understand.

Riley Cain, a third-year sport and entertainment student at USC, has read those lines several times. She started volunteering with Cocky’s Reading Express this spring, and although she’s made it to the end goal for these kids, college, she started in the same classroom chairs.

Cain grew up in Title I schools, which are schools that serve largely low-income populations, in Lexington County. She graduated from Swansea High School. A lot of her friends’ parents worked blue-collar jobs and didn’t have any kind of college dream.

“Only a handful of us went to a four-year school,” Cain said.

She was lucky — her mom went to college, so it was always a part of her plan. But for kids who are in line to be first-generation college graduates, there’s a need for that kind of end goal. That’s what Cocky’s Reading Express is about, Cain said.

“It’s about giving them examples,” Cain said. “A lot of them don’t have that.”

On a one-day trip to Charleston, Cocky’s Reading Express visited two schools: W.B. Goodwin and C.C. Blaney Elementary in Hollywood, S.C.

Reggie Terry, the principal of C.C. Blaney, led 80 children at their lunch tables in the school cafeteria in a mantra that was spat back as effortlessly as “I love my white shoes.”

Everyone will graduate.

After Cocky danced to the words of the last two books, and most children — two or three burst into tears — bopped their heads along with his claw-footed wobbles from stage left to stage right, the kids had to make one promise.

It’s the promise that every child makes before they get their brand new book from the Reading Express: I will read to Cocky every day.

A couple weeks after each Reading Express leaves, Jeffcoat and her team follow up with the schools to scale the success. Are the kids still reading to Cocky each day? The answer is most often an overwhelming yes.

The kids just can’t deny Cocky.

On the way out of the assembly, Cain and other volunteers hand each child a sticker and their book. They circle out of the door and into the hallway where they get one high-five, hug, sometimes a fist bump with what some still see as the mighty duck.

One student at W.B. Goodwin, however, had a different request — a hug or handshake just wasn’t good enough.

“Cocky, can I touch your beak just once?”

Cocky bowed down to one knee as a gaggle of 5-, 6- and 7-year-olds gathered and placed one hand on the bright yellow beak.

Hailey Morris, a first-year student at the University of South Carolina, reads “Pete the Cat: I Love My White Shoes” to first-grade students at W.B. Goodwin Elementary School in North Charleston, S.C. Cocky asks for volunteers to help lead the book’s theme song at the front of the school’s library. Photo by Chloe Gould.

Cocky helps act out each of five picture books that volunteers read to kindergarten and first-grade students at C.C. Blaney Elementary School in Hollywood, S.C. Photo by Chloe Gould.

The first-grade students at W.B. Goodwin couldn’t hold their cross-legged rows after a special reader, Cocky, came to the front of the library to act out each of the picture books. Photo by Chloe Gould.

Editor’s note: Contact info for this story is Tara Baird, 410-459-7348, bairdtl@email.sc.edu

Stories, photos and videos provided by University of South Carolina journalism students are available to the state’s news publications and websites. We ask that bylines be retained and, when possible, clips be provided for student portfolios. The mailing address is Dr. Deborah Gump, School of Journalism and Mass Communications, University of South Carolina, Columbia, S.C. 29208.

By Tara Baird
USC School of Journalism

Ron Sena of Charleston saw his first electronic cigarette while on a cruise with his wife.

A smoker for 40 years, Sena was aware of the regulations surrounding smoking in restaurants, so he was surprised when a man pulled out what looked to be a cigarette in the dining room.

“Hey, guy, you can’t smoke in here,” he remembers saying. He was intrigued by the answer he got: It’s water vapor, not smoke.

That’s when Sena’s interest in e-cigarettes was sparked, and he isn’t alone.

E-cigarettes broke onto the American market in 2007, and the market has grown every year since. Sales are expected to hit $1 billion in 2013, according to Euromonitor.

Sena said that since quitting traditional smoking and picking up the electronic version, his lung function and senses of taste and smell have improved dramatically.

He felt so strongly about the health benefits of the products that he started his own business making refill cartridges for the devices.

Many people feel the way Sena does about the health benefits of e-cigarettes, claiming they can notice the difference in their personal health. However, e-cigarettes face a lot of critics.

Melissa Watson, a Columbia health counselor, has witnessed different results when others pick up e-cigarettes.

Watson, who works with smoking cessation courses at Palmetto Health Baptist, has dedicated a good portion of her career to helping people quit smoking.

In her opinion, e-cigarettes might not be as helpful in the quitting process as some claim.

“Quitting isn’t the hard part,” she said.  “The hard part is staying quit.”

Watson believes e-cigarettes, while potentially helpful from solely a harm reduction standpoint, are not useful in actually kicking the habit.

She said the problem with e-cigarettes is they are designed to simulate smoking, while the commonly used nicotine gums and patches are not.

“What’s the end goal?” she asked.  If the patient intends to fully quit tobacco use, she said, e-cigarettes are not the way to go.

Dr. Scott Strayer of the University of South Carolina Medical School shares a similar opinion. He noted that no studies yet prove that e-cigarettes are healthier or helpful in quitting.

A former smoker of 15 years, Strayer said quitting is about “behavior change.”  This can be difficult to achieve when still reliant on smoking something, even if it is electronic.

As far as being a healthier alternative, Strayer said the potential for harm is still there because a super-heated substance is being put into your lungs.

E-cigarettes are not yet regulated by tobacco laws because they do not actually contain tobacco, just nicotine.

Smoking bills generally have a hard time passing in the state’s General Assembly. Rep. B.R. Skelton, a Republican out of Pickens, is adamantly opposed to smoking and allowing smoke in public places.

Skelton, who proposed a bill in January that would ban smoking in public, indoor areas included electronic cigarettes in his proposal, but he acknowledged that as of the current session, the bill is dead.

Rep. William Clyburn, a Democrat out of Aiken, also proposed a bill this session that would ban smoking in a car with a child of pre-school age. Though that bill did not include e-cigarettes, it did not make much progress this session, either.

Skelton said that many people in the state feel that bans on smoking interfere with personal liberties, which could be why it is so hard to get them passed.

Universities across the state, including Clemson and South Carolina, are pushing for tobacco-free campuses. However, it is still unclear if electronic cigarettes will be included in those bans.

Angela Nixon of Clemson’s media relations department said the issue has been discussed in meetings about the tobacco-free push, but officials aren’t sure whether e-cigarettes should be banned.

“We’re still trying to define tobacco,” she said. “We still don’t how harmful they are to people or to the environment, so we aren’t sure yet if we should include them.”

Electronic cigarettes have not been submitted to the Federal Drug Administration for testing.

The Consumer Advocates for Smoke-free Alternatives Association, or CASAA, encourages raising awareness, testing and development of smoking alternatives.

Elaine Keller, president of CASAA, said most manufacturers of the devices and products that accompany them have not submitted themselves to the FDA because of cost concerns.

If the products were submitted, the manufacturers would have to stop selling the products until the FDA approves them, said Keller.

“It would cost millions, and would have to go through a clinical trial period for three years,” she said. “Most companies are mom and pop shops, and they can’t afford to do that.”

Keller said the only company she thinks could afford to do it would be Blu, which calls itself  the “best-selling electronic cigarette.” Blu could not be reached for comment.

Although the FDA doesn’t regulate electronic cigarettes at the moment, Keller said there has been talk of creating a regulation that would put the products under the control of the FDA.

If this were to happen, the products would be regulated under the Tobacco Control Act, which regulates tobacco, smokeless tobacco and roll-your-own cigarettes.

Though e-cigarettes contain nicotine, they lack tobacco and many of the known carcinogens of traditional cigarettes.

“Nicotine won’t kill us like a cigarette will,” Sena said of the hundreds of known and unknown ingredients of an average cigarette.

An e-cigarette refill cartridge made by Sena has just five ingredients: Nicotine, propylene glycol, grain alcohol, distilled water and the flavoring (contents vary slightly by flavor).

“My wife always asks when I plan to quit,” Sena said.

The answer?  He doesn’t.

Editor’s note: Contact info for this story is Kristyn Winch, 864-542-5635, kristynwinch@gmail.com

Stories, photos and videos provided by University of South Carolina journalism students are available to the state’s news publications and websites. We ask that bylines be retained and, when possible, clips be provided for student portfolios. The mailing address is Dr. Deborah Gump, School of Journalism and Mass Communications, University of South Carolina, Columbia, S.C. 29208.

By Kristyn Winch
USC School of Journalism

A quirky little building sits on Sumter Street across from the State House. With teal blue doors and brick facade, what’s inside is a mystery at a passing glance. But as you walk up to the entrance, its name is inscribed twice above the doors: Town Theatre.

The building is old — the oldest community theater building in continuous use in the United States — though it doesn’t look its age.

But the community behind the scenes is even older.

Town Theatre began in the summer of 1919 under a different name: The Columbia Stage Society. According to a letter written by John D. Neal, the first secretary of the society, the group was formed “for the purpose of encouraging and developing musical, vocal and dramatic talent in this city and to furnish entertainment to those who enjoy these things but do not care to take an active part in them.”

In the group’s first season, it did not have a permanent home. The work it produced was performed on rented stages across the city. But when the Columbia Stage Society opened its second season, its shows were presented in a house at 1012 Sumter St., the same address Town Theatre calls home today, which was purchased and remodeled by the group. According to the National Register of Historic Places, season ticket subscriptions funded the project that became what is the present building. Chicago architect Harry Jenkins designed the facade, and local builder Arthur Hamby planned and built the building’s main body.

The original theater building looked quite different from the one that stands today, but the foundation is the same. The theater’s back workshop annex was added in the 1950s and interior renovations, including the ability to “fly” in set pieces from the rafters, were completed in the 1990s.

Town Theatre is a community down to its core. Auditions are open to the public, and everything from sewing costumes to taking tickets is done by volunteers.

Donna Drake has had a long theatrical career in New York City, but she got her start almost 40 years ago in her hometown.

“You are going back so many years,” she said. “I worked at every theater in Columbia.”

Drake, who remembers working “at every theater in Columbia,” said she was “completely dedicated and obsessed with theater.” It was, she said, “all I wanted to do.”

Drake did around five shows at Town while she was in high school.

“I’d finish my ballet class at 6 p.m. and drive to rehearsals at Town, which lasted until 10. I’d start my homework after. I got very little sleep,” she said.

Those long hours led Drake to a role in the original Broadway production of “A Chorus Line” at age 19.

“I was just the luckiest kid in the world,” she said. “I am so grateful to my hometown.”

Drake’s memorable roles at Town include dancing in “Mame” and playing Ariel in William Shakespeare’s “The Tempest.”

The theater is in the midst of its 94^th season and rehearsals are underway for Town Theater’s production “Miss Saigon,” which runs for 12 performances May 10 through 26. The musical, written by “Les Miserables” composers Claude-Michel Schonberg and Alain Boublil, is a retelling of “Madame Butterfly” set during the Vietnam War.

Parker Byun, a USC freshman, is a newcomer to the Town family, but he’s made his mark with supporting and ensemble roles in this season’s productions of “The Music Man” and “9 to 5.” Byun is playing the role of Thuy, an officer in the Communist Vietnamese government, in “Miss Saigon.”

Byun said his role has been a challenge.

“I have to be cynical, but at the same time romantic,” he said. “It’s really helping me expand my acting skills.”

Rehearsals for “Miss Saigon” began while “9 to 5″ rehearsals were still ongoing, so Byun was doing double duty.

“It’s hectic, but it’s a lot of fun,” he said.

Working at Town Theatre has helped Byun form new friendships.

“That’s the bulk of my friends — they’re mostly from Town Theatre,” he said.

Town Theater has a bright future, too. The organization will launch its 95^th season in the fall with a production of “Les Miserables.”

Parts of the Town Theatre building, 1012 Sumter St., have been standing since 1924. The community theater got its start in 1919 as the Columbia Stage Society, holding performances at rented stages until the group could afford to build its own space. Photo by Kristyn Winch.

The theater is the oldest community theater building in continual use in the United States. Town Theatre will celebrate its 95th season this fall.
Photo by Kristyn Winch.

The bright teal entrance to Town Theatre lets you know you’ve arrived. The building is across from the State House. The theater’s production of “Miss Saigon” opens May 10 and runs through May 26.
 Photo by Kristyn Winch.

Editor’s note: Contact info for this story is Cassie Cope, 803-429-4951, cassiecope@gmail.com

Stories, photos and videos provided by University of South Carolina journalism students are available to the state’s news publications and websites. We ask that bylines be retained and, when possible, clips be provided for student portfolios. The mailing address is Dr. Deborah Gump, School of Journalism and Mass Communications, University of South Carolina, Columbia, S.C. 29208.

By Cassie Cope
USC School of Journalism

Heather Tapler earned her USC degree in biology in four years and accumulated $17,900 in debt to go along with it.

Like 12 million other college students every year, she had to borrow to pay for her education.

But after graduating, Tapler increased her loan payments as often as she could until she paid them off.

The payoff is an accomplishment when 37 million others are in debt to the tune of $1 trillion, causing students, families and experts to wonder whether a college degree is a good return on their investment.

Nationally in 2011, two-thirds of college seniors graduated with student debt averaging $26,600, according to the Institute for College Access and Success.

South Carolina ranked 20^th among the states that year, with 54 percent of graduates leaving college with an average $25,662 of debt. 

Tapler, of Chapin, graduated in 2007 from USC, where she studied biology. She had a lottery-funded Life scholarship, which contributed $5,000 a year to her college costs. But after sorority dues, housing, books and other expenses, she needed more money. So she worked.

She was an assistant manager at Marble Slab Creamery and coached cheerleading. She later worked in a biology lab, and, during her senior year, she was a nanny. But that still wasn’t enough.

So she borrowed the maximum amount in federal student loans each year, which stands at the highest amount of $7,500 for the third year and each additional year.

“They said you can borrow this amount, and I said, ‘Please. Please and thank you,’” Tapler said.

Even after her scholarship and loans, she still owed about $1,600 out of pocket each semester.

After she paid off her loans in about four years, the same amount of time it took her to accumulate the debt, she proudly displayed the payoff confirmation on her refrigerator.

Now she is working with her husband to pay off his debt from undergraduate and graduate school, which was about $42,000.

The current generation is not the only one dealing with student debt.

Before state-funded scholarships existed, loans were the only way to pay for school.

Sally Thornton, from Lugoff, went to the College of Charleston in 1992 before state lottery scholarships, like the Life scholarship Tapler received, existed. Those scholarships are funded through the South Carolina Education Lottery and are based on academic merit.

Thornton finished a history degree in four years and had considered minoring in education, but she found the course load was too rigorous. Instead, she took another year to earn an additional degree in English. Her undergraduate education racked up about $30,000 in student loans. And she decided to complete her master’s degree so she could pursue the teaching career she wanted, which meant an extra $20,000 in debt.

When she was in college, she always had a job, including work study. At one point, she had three jobs: at a small coffee shop, at a Greek store, and as a secretary in the mortgage division of a bank.

“Those jobs were just to make ends meet to pay the bills,” Thornton said.

After graduation, Thornton immediately found a teaching job. But a teacher’s salary trembles at $60,000 of debt, interest included.

She has taught for 13 years, deferring loan payments a few times along the way so she could pay her mortgage and “life bills.”  Meanwhile, she accrued “crippling” interest, which stands at 6.8 percent for new borrowers of federal unsubsidized student loans.

“But what choice do I have? I’ll get to it as soon as I can,” Thornton said.

Thornton at least knows that her own debt will not transfer to her daughters.

“When I die, my student loans will be paid off because I will be dead,” Thornton said. “But I fully expect to be paying off my student loans until I’m in the nursing home.”

After 43 years of working in financial aid, Ed Miller, USC’s director of financial aid and scholarships, wonders when people will consider whether a college degree is a good return on their investment.

For an 18-year-old deciding how to pay for college, “it’s more of a family decision,” Miller said.

Students and families can use websites like http://collegerealitycheck.com/ and http://nces.ed.gov/collegenavigator/ to compare costs of colleges to make an informed decision on where to attend.

If a student borrows irresponsibly and, ultimately, defaults, then the financial institution that owns the loan can take action to recover the money owed.

If someone defaults, then the unpaid balance on the loan and interest is due immediately, according to the U.S. Department of Education. The debt increases because of late fees, more interest, court costs and even more fees. In addition, an employer can withhold money from a paycheck and send it to the government.

Nationally, about 9.1 percent of students defaulted in 2010-2011, according to the Department of Education. Only 1.9 percent of USC students defaulted in that year, Miller said.

“Despite the fact our students are borrowing, they’re borrowing responsibly,” Miller said.

Tapler swears by Dave Ramsey’s “Total Money Makeover.” She budgets and saves and believes spending money is a lifestyle.

Tapler is already planning on her 2-year-old daughter’s college.

When she got pregnant, she and her husband started putting $35 a week into a high-yield savings account. That account will pay for her car at 16, her wedding and maybe she can use it to pay for her education and avoid student loans.

Heather Tapler pays some bills by mail so she can control when the payment goes through her bank account. Tapler paid off her student loans totaling $17,900 within four years of graduating from the University of South Carolina. Photo by Cassie Cope.

After paying bills, Heather Tapler plays a game with her daughter, Ellery, on an electronic tablet. Tapler said the savings account she and her husband started for Ellery will be Ellery’s money that she will be able to spend when she is an adult. Photo by Cassie Cope.

Heather Tapler graduated from USC in 2007 with a degree in biology. She found a job after college and increased payments on her student loan gradually until she paid it off. She put the payment confirmation letter on her fridge for a while after she got rid of her student debt. Photo by Cassie Cope.

Editor’s note: Contact info for this story is Haley Willard, 949-554-4460, h.e.willard@hotmail.com

Stories, photos and videos provided by University of South Carolina journalism students are available to the state’s news publications and websites. We ask that bylines be retained and, when possible, clips be provided for student portfolios. The mailing address is Dr. Deborah Gump, School of Journalism and Mass Communications, University of South Carolina, Columbia, S.C. 29208.

By Haley Willard
USC School of Journalism

Pressed against her chest, the fragile, not yet 2-week-old kittens could hear a beating heart and feel the warmth of another living thing as they struggled for life.

Born from a feral mother in a wall at Pawmetto Lifeline, an animal rescue organization in Columbia, the nearly 3½-ounce kittens, each one fitting in the palm of a hand, were abandoned at birth.

On a floor beside a desk holding a computer and assignments, tiny cries squeak from inside a small pet crate – a foster home for kittens Edgar, Allan and Poe.

Their mother, who was to be spayed and then released as part of Pawmetto Lifeline’s Trap, Neuter, Release program, escaped from a humane trap and found her way into the ceiling. When she wouldn’t come out, her kittens were left as a lure in the room that she escaped from. But a young cat herself, only about 6 months old, she didn’t come back for them.

The kittens needed someone to care for them.

Lisa Sisk, a journalism professor at the University of South Carolina, picked them up from Pawmetto Lifeline when they were not even 3 hours old.

Everywhere she went, they went – her home, her work, Pawmetto Lifeline, the grocery store. And wherever else she needed to go. When kittens are under a week old, they can’t be left alone.

“They have to be with you constantly, like a newborn baby,” Sisk said, explaining that they have to be fed every one to two hours and that their body temperatures must be constantly regulated.

Sisk is one of about 150 foster volunteers Pawmetto Lifeline depends on.

If a pet has never lived in a home or needs to improve its social skills and behavior or is suffering from an illness, it may be better off in a foster home than in a shelter, said Mike Kokernak, animal care manager at Pawmetto Lifeline. If there isn’t enough space in a shelter, fostering is also a way to free up room to take in more pets.

At Pawmetto Lifeline, 200 animals live in the shelter, and 75 to 100 live in foster homes.

Each year more than 19,000 pets enter shelters in Lexington and Richland counties, and more then 14,000 of them are euthanized, according to Pawmetto Lifeline.

Checking for infections and parasites, staying up-to-date on shots and administering medications, watching for unusual behavior, making sure eating and bathroom habits are normal – fostering doesn’t always mean just walking dogs and snuggling cats.

“You get to take care of an animal temporarily and get your fix when you can’t take them permanently,” said Kokernak. “And you also get to save lives.”

A formerly licensed wildlife rehabilitator of 16 years, Sisk has fostered over 15,000 animals. She took in injured and orphaned wild animals and nursed them until they were healthy enough to be released back into the wild.

When caring for wild animals, caution is critical because they can be dangerous and unpredictable, and cuddling is never a good idea, she said.

Pointing to scars on her body, she explained: “I got taloned here by a great horned owl. This was a rabbit bite. And I got bitten on the nose by a bear cub.”

Birds – reptiles – rabbits – squirrels – deer – possums – foxes – bears – wolves. Sisk fostered about 1,000 wild animals every year until she stopped about 15 years ago. Now she fosters dogs and cats.

“It’s very difficult to raise something from newborn. It takes years and years of practice,” Sisk said, because nutritional needs and care vary for every species.

From the few moments after they were born, Edgar, Allan and Poe were fed kitten milk replacement from a syringe every one to two hours over a 24-hour period. After feedings, they were bathed with a warm washcloth because the sloppy formula would get stuck in their fur. Waking up throughout the night for feedings and keeping the kittens always by her side, Sisk slept little and barely had time for anything else.

In that first week, Edgar, Allan and Poe grew quickly. At 3 hours old, they were crawling out of the cardboard box that was their original home. With tube socks that she stuffed with rice, Sisk formed a bed for them in the crate, and it became their new home.

“It’s incredibly rewarding to see that this creature is alive and thriving,” she said.

But they don’t all make it.

If an animal is badly injured or is dehydrated because it’s been away from its mother too long, its chances of survival aren’t high, Lisa said.

From the first few feedings of their mother’s milk, kittens are filled with essential antibodies and other protective nutrients that fight a common virus that many kittens and grown cats can catch. Abandoned by their mother, Edgar, Allan and Poe didn’t get those nutrients.

By the second week, the trio, dehydrated from diarrhea, grew weaker every day. From that point, there was nothing she could do. No medicine could cure them.

Poe was the first to go. Three days later, Allan was next. And Edgar left at 2 weeks old.

“At least they didn’t die alone. At least I was holding them as they left. It was hard. It was very hard,” Sisk said.

In the past five years, she’s rescued and found homes for about 10 different cat litters that were abandoned or uncared for.

These were the first kittens she’d lost in several years. It’s rare but it happens.

“It’s really demoralizing,” Sisk said. “What if I did this? Could I have done that? But that’s nature.”

With wild animals, she was required to hand over all dead bodies to a U.S. Fish and Wildlife agent. But Edgar, Allan and Poe were buried in a pet graveyard in her backyard.

“Even with domestic ones,” Sisk said, “it’s still nature.”

Former wildlife rehabilitator of 16 years Lisa Sisk took in injured and orphaned wild animals and nursed them back to health. Now, a journalism professor at the University of South Carolina, she fosters kittens who are sick or abandoned or uncared for by their mother. She’s able to help most of them, but some don’t make it. Photo by Haley Willard.

Less than 2-week-old Allan was abandoned by his mother, so he is fed
kitten milk replacement every one to two hours from a syringe to get the nutrition he needs. Photo courtesy of Lisa Sisk.

Less than 2-week-old Edgar is one of the kittens that Sisk carried with her every day to and from her office at the University of South Carolina. When they are under a week old, kittens can’t be left alone because they have to be fed every one to two hours, and their body temperatures must be constantly regulated. Photo courtesy of Lisa Sisk.

At 3 hours old, Edgar, Allan and Poe were crawling out of the cardboard box that was their original home. With rice-filled tube socks, Sisk formed a bed inside the pet crate that became their new home.  Photo courtesy of Lisa Sisk.

Editor’s note: Contact info for this story is Erin Shaw, 972-998-5439, shawej@email.sc.edu

Stories, photos and videos provided by University of South Carolina journalism students are available to the state’s news publications and websites. We ask that bylines be retained and, when possible, clips be provided for student portfolios. The mailing address is Dr. Deborah Gump, School of Journalism and Mass Communications, University of South Carolina, Columbia, S.C. 29208.

This package on military veterans returning to college on the Post-9/11 GI Bill first appeared on the Carolina Reporter website. a publication produced by senior multimedia journalism students in the USC School of Journalism and Mass Communications. Their work is shared regularly on the SC News Exchange; if you’d like to be notified when their stories appear, sent an email to Dr. Deborah Gump (gumpdl@gmail.com) to be added to the email alert.

By Erin Shaw
USC School of Journalism

More veterans than ever before are returning from war and heading to college, in large part due to the benefits of the Post-9/11 GI Bill. In just three years, it has helped 860,000 veterans go to school.

The main provisions of the bill completely fund up to 36 months of higher education, including living allowances and book stipends. Veterans are also able to transfer their benefits to their spouse or children after serving or agreeing to serve 10 years in the military.

At the University of South Carolina, the increasing number of student veterans mirrors the national trend. In 2009, there were about 400 graduate and undergraduate student veterans on campus. By 2012, that number doubled to approximately 800 student veterans, according to Jacob Rivers, director for veteran services at USC.

Though the new GI Bill has motivated more veterans to pursue higher education, no one is keeping track of these veterans in terms of areas of study or graduation rates, said Paul Millard, coordinator of transfer and veterans programs. But there has been a national push for the discussion of the issue.

“What is the actual portrait of the student veteran experience on campus? No one really knows right now,” he said.

The senior journalism students at USC set out to find some answers by speaking to student veterans and recording their experiences.

Paul Millard, coordinator of transfer and veterans programs at USC, says the student veteran experience is virtually unknown. Photo by Patrick Hart.

Editor’s note: Contact info for this story is Erin Shaw, 972-998-5439, shawej@email.sc.edu

Stories, photos and videos provided by University of South Carolina journalism students are available to the state’s news publications and websites. We ask that bylines be retained and, when possible, clips be provided for student portfolios. The mailing address is Dr. Deborah Gump, School of Journalism and Mass Communications, University of South Carolina, Columbia, S.C. 29208.

By Erin Shaw
USC School of Journalism

On the University of South Carolina campus, Frank Jordan blends in. He is quiet and keeps to himself, and on the surface, he is indistinguishable from the  31,000 other  students who weave in and out of classroom buildings throughout the day.

But a closer look at his straight posture, buzzed haircut or the dog tag hanging from his key chain reveals something else.

Frank Jordan is a veteran of war.

After enrolling at USC in 2005 and not finding college to his liking, Jordan decided to join the military. After a year and a half of intense training, Jordan spent five years in the Navy as an airborne cryptologic analyst, flying in manned reconnaissance missions. Most of his time served was spent in support of Operation Iraqi Freedom and Operation Enduring Freedom.

“When you think Navy, you think boats and water,” the Columbia native said. “I never saw a ship.”

His job was on the plane, providing intelligence support for combat troops on the ground. Because of the sensitive nature of his work, there are many things Jordan simply cannot talk about. Seemingly innocent questions – How high did the planes fly? How long was your lengthiest mission? – elicit quick and serious head shakes.

“Can’t tell you that.”

But after three deployments to Turkey and one to Qatar, Jordan has plenty of stories that are not off limits. Like how the flight suits he wore felt like oversized pajamas with lots of pockets, or the ancient rock he took home as a keepsake, or even the time his plane’s engine failed.

It was an exciting life to be sure, Jordan said, but one thing was missing: his degree.

In 2011, Jordan returned to USC and is now pursuing a bachelor’s in biology. He plans to go back into the Navy as an officer and eventually become pilot. To do that, he needs a college degree.

For Jordan, the biggest initial challenge of being a student veteran was reintegration.

“I came in with an advantage because I don’t look old,” the 26-year-old said. “I kind of blend in.”

But getting used to a sporadic schedule with university classes was difficult, he said. So was the apparent lack of discipline in some of his classmates.

“I remember one math class I was taking and the professor was trying to talk and it was a good five minutes and the students still wouldn’t be quiet. I took it upon myself to tell them to be quiet so he could teach,” Jordan said. “When you are so used to structure and regulations and rules, and it doesn’t exist all of a sudden, it throws your brain for a loop.”

Little things from the military have stuck with Jordan in the classroom. He still writes in all caps, fills in from the front when picking a seat and refers to professors by their full titles.

“I get so uneasy about that,” Jordan said of professors asking to be called by their first names.

For professors, veterans like Frank are a dream to teach. If there’s an assignment, veterans do the assignment, said geography professor Edward Carr, who has had Jordan in two of his classes.

Jordan missed Carr’s class only once, and even though it was a large class, Carr noticed, he said, because Jordan was such a constant. And on that one day he missed, Jordan sent Carr an email apologizing.

“Frank’s the kind of guy that, if he says he’ll so something, I know it will get done,” Carr said. “That’s very true of military students.”

Carr also noted that in the subjects he teaches, which relate to the world as it is today, veterans tend to pick things up much more quickly.

“I’ve noticed that these guys have been around,” he said. “They’ve seen stuff.”

Jordan agreed that this time around, he is a completely different student. Now he is more focused and mature, traits he attributes to his military training.

“Upon first meeting him, his discipline and commitment are apparent,” said Elizabeth Blalock, a close friend who met Jordan a year into his service. “He is the most loyal person I know.”

In the Navy, three core values are hammered into every sailor’s brain: honor, courage and commitment. Anything can be applied to those three words, Jordan said.

For example, while attending training school and learning survival and interrogation resistance techniques, Jordan was asked by an instructor, “Why does a good sailor never need a haircut?”

He answered, “Because he already has one.”

It takes a while for Jordan to open up. He admittedly has a reserved personality and doesn’t get asked to talk about himself often.

“This is the most I’ve talked in a year,” Jordan said with a short laugh.

“Describe myself? I’m horrible at things like that,” he said.  “I don’t know what to say, I really don’t.” He paused. “I work hard. I know that much. Sometimes too hard. And I care a lot about people.”

Especially his family. About once a week, Jordan eats dinner with his parents and younger brother Kaley, 22, who live in Columbia. His mother, Susan, teaches physical education at Brennen Elementary while his father, Don, is a mathematics professor at USC.

Jordan sees his older sister, Elizabeth, about every three months. She lives in North Carolina and with her three kids and with Jordan’s school schedule, it is difficult to get together more often, she said.

Jordan fills his time almost completely with school and a work-study at the Center for Science Education, where he helps organize symposiums and science fairs for middle and high school students.

“When I have free time, I have no idea what to do. No idea,” Jordan said.

Typically, Jordan takes classes in fall, spring and most of the summer.

Jordan’s family understands that he is back first and foremost to finish his education, something he has learned to value greatly.

“With the job I had, information was the weapon,” Jordan said. “Especially after going back to school for two years now, I believe that the more you know, the more powerful you can be.”

Frank Jordan, a Columbia native and Navy veteran, flew in planes in the Middle East for Operation Iraqi Freedom. Five years later, he’s back on the University of South Carolina campus pursuing a biology degree. Photo by Daniel Knotts.

Frank Jordan is a Navy sailor who never saw a ship. Photo by Daniel Knotts.

Frank Jordan holds a key chain with two dog tags: his and his grandfather’s, who also served in the military. Photo by Erin Shaw.

Coin sharing is a popular tradition in the military. Coins like Frank Jordan’s are normally presented by unit commanders to recognize special achievement by a member of the unit. Photo by Erin Shaw.

Out of all his military keepsakes, Frank Jordan says he is most proud of his Naval Air Crewman wings, which he earned after completing three different Navy schooling and training programs. Photo by Erin Shaw.

Editor’s note: Contact info for this story is Tara Baird, 410-459-7348, bairdtl@email.sc.edu

Stories, photos and videos provided by University of South Carolina journalism students are available to the state’s news publications and websites. We ask that bylines be retained and, when possible, clips be provided for student portfolios. The mailing address is Dr. Deborah Gump, School of Journalism and Mass Communications, University of South Carolina, Columbia, S.C. 29208.

By Tara Baird
USC School of Journalism

As a member of the Carolina marching band for the 2011 football season, Kyle Brown has visited four stadiums in the SEC – Carolina, Mississippi State, Tennessee and Arkansas.

As a member of the U.S. Marine Corps, Kyle Brown has visited five continents – North America, Europe, Africa, Asia and Australia.

As a member of the band, Brown played the tuba, although it isn’t his only musical talent.

“I can play every instrument,” he says nonchalantly as he strums a Gibson Les Paul. “No, literally every instrument.” He even plays the bagpipe.

After graduating as a broadcast major in May, Brown is heading to Memphis to play drums for B.B. King’s grandson’s band.  He isn’t letting it get to his head, though.  “I don’t even know where we’re playing,” he says.

Brown’s talents don’t end with music.

He was also a first basemen on the All-Marine baseball team, which was one factor that let him travel to so many places.

He is also a gray belt in the Marine Corps martial arts program, an honors graduate of the non-commissioned officer school, and maybe his biggest accomplishment of all, a husband and father of two.

He points to his tattoos, visible under a short-sleeve Under Armour “Gamecocks believe in heroes” shirt. He shows one underneath his right forearm of his daughter’s name – Mariah – and one underneath his left forearm of his son’s name – Tyler.

“I try to be humble, especially about my kids, but my son is a baseball prodigy,” Brown says of his 9-year-old. “He’s better than I ever was.”

Mariah, just 5 years old, is already involved in dance classes and cheerleading.

Brown and his wife, Nicole, met during his first stint in college, Tri-County Technical College, before he enlisted in 2001.  They were married about two years later on Nov. 18, 2003.

“I just wasn’t mature enough for college the first time around,” he says.

So Kyle took a detour, enlisted as a Marine, and gained some renown by being a part of the unit that tore down the Saddam Hussein monument in Baghdad during the first Operation Iraqi Freedom.

He served his first mission in Kuwait but would go on to serve in Operation Iraqi Freedom one and two and Operation Enduring Freedom in Iraq and Afghanistan.

“I used to have a shirt that said ‘Spring Break Baghdad 2003,’” he says.

Brown initially enlisted because he felt that he wasn’t in a good place and needed to make a change, but when he returned he found that he was suffering again, but this time from the trauma of war.

“Unlike a Purple Heart recipient, who’s wounded in battle,  you don’t get a medal to say that you were mentally wounded,” Brown says.  “There’s no physical scars, but you’re certainly suffering no different than anyone else.”

“I personally struggled with PTSD, and I still struggle with PTSD,” he said.  Brown feels strongly that the stigma attached to PTSD needs to be talked about.

“The more it’s talked about, the less sensitive people will become about it.”

He says the biggest issue is being afraid to admit to having a problem and seeking help.

It took a few years of being home, but Brown eventually took advantage of the counseling the Veterans Affairs office offers.  He no longer attends counseling but admits he probably should.

An adjustment period was necessary for the little things in life, too.

“The first time you get back from a deployment, the first month or week you drive is strange because there are stoplights,” he says.  “I can’t tell you how many stop signs or stoplights I ran when I came back.  Small things like that are just different.”

As being a part of many military convoys while deployed, Brown was not used to stopping.

Brown still doesn’t like fireworks.

“I could come within an inch of losing my life – I could walk out in front of a bus – and it would not bother me,” he says.  “But a firework would.”

He also tries to avoid close quarters, especially with people he doesn’t know, and at restaurants he says he doesn’t like his back facing people.

As he sits in the back corner of the room, chair facing away from the walls around him, he says, “This is my ideal seat because I can see everything going on around me.”

Upon his return from deployment, the 29-year-old Seneca native was working on power lines until the recession hit.  He was eventually laid off, struggled finding work and decided he would take advantage of the GI Bill and return to school.

Brown grew up in a Clemson family, and once he chose to go back to college, his family threw him a party.  His mother brought out an orange, purple and white cake.

“Then I had to explain I was going to USC,” he says with a smirk on his face.

Brown chose USC because he thought he and his family needed a change. He wanted to strengthen his immediate family and thought the only way to do that would be to move away from the family he grew up with.

He admits that during his first few months in Columbia, he wasn’t on a mission to make any new friends. In fact, he was still a Clemson guy at heart.

Then he joined the Carolina marching band.  “That totally turned the experience around for me.”

To this day he doesn’t know what possessed him to go to that informational meeting, but he saw the ad in the student newspaper and the next thing he knew he was eating free pizza and agreeing to play the tuba.

He’s no longer a Clemson fan, he says.

Richard Moore, a professor in USC’s School of Journalism, has taught Brown in more than one class.

Moore describes Brown as having an “intense focus” and even compares him to himself.

“Kyle reminds me a little of myself when I went back to graduate school,” he says.  He went on to say that Brown’s fully developed life gives him a richer perspective on everything else.

“I would hire Kyle hands down over any undergraduate coming out of here just based solely on his life experience,” Moore said.

Brown, who had some experience in radio as a teenager, would prefer radio over television.  At age 16 he was already on the air with WGOG-FM out of Walhalla, talking and playing music for the Greenville market.

Brown would occasionally substitute for regular hosts and also work late-night hours during the week. He admits it was too much for him at the time, but as a music buff he wouldn’t mind returning to it.

Moore calls Brown “extraordinary” compared to most other undergraduates because he sees things with such a different perspective. He describes Brown as having a much higher level of maturity than other students.

Brown spends roughly 40 hours a week putting on a daily TV news show for the School of Journalism and Mass Communications.

A broadcast classmate walks in the room to ask for advice on a project, and upon his answer she teases “can’t live with you, can’t shoot you.”

“Bullets can’t catch me.  They’ve tried,” Brown laughs.

Kyle Brown, a veteran of the U.S. Marine Corps, is also a husband, father, musician, student and proud Gamecock. Photos by Kelsey Keith.

Put an instrument in front of me, and I can play it,” Brown said. The 29-year-old has been playing the guitar for 26 years. Photo by Kelsey Keith.

Stories, photos and videos provided by University of South Carolina journalism students are available to the state’s news publications and websites. We ask that bylines be retained and, when possible, clips be provided for student portfolios. The mailing address is Dr. Deborah Gump, School of Journalism and Mass Communications, University of South Carolina, Columbia, S.C. 29208.

By Haley Willard
USC School of Journalism

After 5 a.m. wake-up calls of “reveille, reveille, reveille” and “fire, fire, fire” at Coast Guard boot camp, Krysten Kasprzyk can’t sleep past 7 a.m.

Her dad served in the Navy. Her brother served in the Army. Her twin sister serves in the Air Force. And Kasprzyk, 23, served as a seaman in the Coast Guard, stationed in Puerto Rico, for 10 months until July 2010.

At 18, Kasprzyk enlisted in the military to pay for college. She didn’t want to follow in her dad’s or her sibling’s footsteps by joining one of the branches that they did, so she joined the Coast Guard to forge her own military path.

Kasprzyk’s dad enlisted in the Navy long before Kasprzyk was born, and her brother enlisted in the Army when he was 17 and she was 12. Kasprzyk’s mom has always been supportive of her family’s decisions to work in the military and was the same with Kasprzyk.

Now, almost three years after her service, Kasprzyk, a Columbia native, is working toward a bachelor’s degree in science with a major in criminal justice and a minor in studio photography at the University of South Carolina — and she never sleeps through a class.

“That’s the only thing I think is interesting about me,” she said. “When I have to tell people about myself in class, I’m like, ‘My name is Krysten. I was in the Coast Guard. I’m 23.’”

Working in the branch of Coast Guard called Aids to Navigation, Kasprzyk fixed broken buoys and climbed 100- to 800-foot dayboards, which are nautical devices that light the way for boats, to fix any boards or lights that went out.

Buoy lights in a harbor blink either green or red, depending on which side of the harbor the boats are on. If the lights go out, then incoming boats can get lost or hit another boat if they come into the wrong side of the harbor.

Every Monday through Friday at 8 a.m., Kasprzyk and the 13 fellow crewmembers began by checking the Coast Guard’s message system to see whether any buoys or lighthouses needed to be fixed and how urgent the fix was. They also had to make sure everything on the boat was working properly.

Kasprzyk’s proudest moment was when she received a tower climbing certificate for achieving her goal of climbing to the top of a 350-foot tower with the aid of a harness.

“It wasn’t a huge deal in the Coast Guard, but it was big for me,” she said.

During eight weeks of Coast Guard training at Cape May in New Jersey, she was awakened at 5 a.m. either by calls of “reveille, reveille, reveille” or “fire, fire, fire.”

“Reveille, reveille, reveille” meant you had to wake up and get your instructions for the day. But “fire, fire, fire” meant that you had to jump out of bed, run outside and start doing pushups, sit-ups and crunches.

“I’m programmed now to wake up at 7 o’ clock every morning,” Kasprzyk said. “Even if I want to sleep in, I can’t.”

Every Tuesday and Thursday at 7 a.m., she drives an hour and 15 minutes from her house in Charleston to USC to make it to her 9:35 a.m. sexual diversities class. She’s also taking crime and punishment, forensic chemistry, photography and Zumba. And on Saturday mornings, she’s in Emergency Medical Technician school at Trident Tech in Charleston.

Before enrolling at USC and Trident Tech, Kasprzyk graduated from Midlands Tech with an associate degree in criminal justice.

When she’s not studying, she’s making smoothies at Smoothie King in Charleston.

Kasprzyk lives with the same roommate that she lived with in the Coast Guard, Haley Dyar. You didn’t get to choose who you  roomed with, but the random pairing was a perfect match.

“Living together is perfect,” Dyar said. “It’s like having your best friend live with you. She’s a big goofball. Or I’d say a small goofball because she’s so tiny.”

Kasprzyk and Dyar are more than just roommates; they’re pranksters. Their favorite target is one of their good-natured friends who plays along.

They don’t normally plan their pranks; they just wing it. And they get creative.

“We don’t have cable, so we get bored,” Kasprzyk said.

They plastic-wrapped his car and covered it in sticky notes. They painted over his window. They put dog food in a brown bag, lit it on fire, knocked and ran away.

She said, as much as their friend tries, he can never get them back.

“You have to be slick, and he’s not slick,” she said.

The pranking goes all the way back to the Coast Guard when she and her roommate walked into their room in the barracks the night before inspections to find it trashed from flipped beds, Chex Mix all over the floor and turkey slices, which they didn’t find until a week later, hidden in the air vent with the heat on full blast.

After that, Kasprzyk remembers saying, “It is on.” And so the pranking began.

In the barracks, if your door wasn’t locked, you were Kasprzyk’s and Dyar’s next target.

They dumped an entire bottle of laundry detergent on a friend who was sleeping. They taped a drunk and passed-out friend to a chair. They moved the barrack’s gym equipment – two treadmills and a stationary bicycle – into someone’s room so that the door was blocked and they couldn’t get out for work in the morning. They yelled “fire, fire, fire” outside the room of a friend who had just graduated boot camp.

The pranks were endless.

“We went through this phase where all we wanted to do was prank people,” Dyar said.

Only once were they caught red-handed – literally. As Kasprzyk and Dyar were about to prank a friend by writing “Happy Easter” on his bedroom door with a bottle of ketchup, the friend-to-be-pranked caught them in the act, grabbed the bottle and covered them both in ketchup. The barrack hallway smelled like ketchup for a week.

“We never got in trouble for it,” said Kasprzyk. “No one ever got mad at us or told on us. It was just fun.”

Dyar said: “We were all like brothers and sisters. Pranking and pulling jokes was what we did.”

Kasprzyk said she misses the people in the Coast Guard more than the job itself.

“I really liked the camaraderie of it,” she said. “You get to know people really, really well. That’s the biggest thing I miss about it.”

Kasprzyk can fire a .40-caliber automatic pistol that law enforcement officers are armed with – and she keeps a .22 Mosquito handgun in her home for protection. She can survive while stranded in an ocean by floating on her back and shooting up red flares. She can save a bleeding arm with a tourniquet. She can put out different types of fires. She can perform a proper salute.

With only one more year before she graduates USC, Kasprzyk wants to train to become an air marshal, someone who guards against terrorists on planes.

“A terrorist wouldn’t suspect me to be an air marshal because I’m short and have a baby face,” she said.

If she doesn’t become an air marshal, Kasprzyk wants to help people working as an EMT.

Dyar said, “She has a big heart. She’ll do anything in the world for anybody.”

Krysten Kasprzyk can survive stranded in an ocean. She can save a bleeding arm with a tourniquet. When she was 18, she was in the Coast Guard, stationed in Puerto Rico for 10 months. Now,  the Columbia native is pursuing a bachelor’s degree in science criminal justice at USC. Photo by Jeremy Sullivan.

Krysten Kasprzyk, who lives in Charleston, drives twice a week for an hour and 15 minutes to the University of South Carolina, where she she is studying criminal justice and photography. Photo by Jeremy Sullivan.

Editor’s note: Contact info for this story is Kristyn Winch, 864-542-5635, kristynwinch@gmail.com

Stories, photos and videos provided by University of South Carolina journalism students are available to the state’s news publications and websites. We ask that bylines be retained and, when possible, clips be provided for student portfolios. The mailing address is Dr. Deborah Gump, School of Journalism and Mass Communications, University of South Carolina, Columbia, S.C. 29208.

By Kristyn Winch
USC School of Journalism

He laughs easily. He asks questions. He’ll greet you with a smile and a firm handshake, and he’s not afraid to wear a pink polo shirt. His favorite movie is “The Color Purple,” and he enjoys having friends over for cookouts and wine tastings.

He also spent three years as a drill sergeant at Fort Jackson and served three deployments in the Army.

1st Sgt. William Paige now spends his days at the University of South Carolina studying psychology and participating in student government.

On the surface, he appears to be a traditional student on the surface.

He had a pretty average childhood, too.

He was born and raised on the east side of Detroit, Mich., where he lived with his two parents, two older sisters and two younger brothers.

“We had normal lives. Our parents worked. Nothing lavish. We all got cake and ice cream on our birthdays, and we got toys on Christmas. We all went to public high schools,” Paige said.

Paige’s transition from civilian life to the military was a quick one. He graduated from high school in June of 2003 and joined the Army two months later.

“I applied to West Point twice and I was denied twice, so then I said, ‘Well, I’ll just do college,’” Paige said. “I applied to Eastern Michigan University and got accepted there to shoot on their rifle team. I just made the decision, well, if I’m going to be an officer, I better get some experience first, so I joined in August with the basic training right here in Fort Jackson.”

During his training, Paige went to airborne school, which was one of his favorite experiences.

“I got to jump out of perfectly good aircrafts, so that’s cool,” he said. “Doing Uncle Sam’s business, you definitely get to do a lot of things and meet a lot of people that you may not have done otherwise.”

But Paige had his share of rough times, too. He deployed to Iraq for a year and deployed twice to Afghanistan, serving during a particularly difficult point in the war. The friends he made on the job helped make it bearable.

“Looking back on it, I’ve had an opportunity to serve with some people that are simply phenomenal,” Paige said. “Iraq was very rough back in ’04-’05 because we were at the height of the war, so it wasn’t a very pleasant place to be because of what was going on around you, but the people that you were with helped pull each other along.”

Working with a supportive team greatly improved Paige’s life.

“I’ll put it this way. There’s people that I’ve known since I was a kid, and there’s people that I’ve only met and served with and deployed. And the people that I’ve deployed with, we’re tighter than those people that I’ve known for almost all my life,” he said. “It’s just going through those hard times together and being there for that person or them being there for you that kind of pulls you along and makes it memorable.”

After returning from his deployment, Paige spent three years as a volunteer drill sergeant at Fort Jackson until moving on to teach other drill sergeants for 18 months.

Paige said many people’s perception of a drill sergeant’s job comes from the media, but he said it’s nothing like that.

“Most people when they think of a drill sergeant, they think of ‘Full Metal Jacket.’ That’s true for that era. Do we still do some of those things? Yes, but times have changed. People have changed. Society has changed. I don’t have to beat you to make you do something,” he said.

Paige said that being a drill sergeant is “the most rewarding thing I have done in my 26 years on this planet” and that taking the job changed his way of thinking.

“It gives me a newfound appreciation for people who train our soldiers, airmen and Marines,” Paige said. “You think, ‘Cool, I get to yell at people all day,’ but it far exceeds that. You’re teaching these people everything.”

Paige said the most gratifying part of the job was seeing people grow throughout the training process.

“Being a drill sergeant was a hell of a job. To watch somebody come in who’s rag-bag, no discipline or you know some snot-nosed kid who thinks that the world owes him something. Then you see the transformation over the 10-week process. This boy is becoming a young man, and this young man is becoming a soldier,” he said. “You look at ‘em on graduation day, and it’s almost like a parent, you know, like ‘Damn, I made that.’”

Another rewarding experience for Paige was honoring a fallen soldier in his unit.

“I helped put together and process the Medal of Honor for Staff Sgt. Robert Miller, a Special Forces soldier,” he said of the yearlong effort. “It was posthumously awarded. But we worked on that, my team and I.”

Paige is a psychology major at the University of South Carolina, a junior in credit hours. He began his college career by taking classes while deployed in Afghanistan; when he returned to Fort Jackson, he took courses during his lunch break and evenings. Now, Paige is enrolled at USC through the Army’s Green to Gold program, a scholarship program that provides tuition, additional money for textbooks, a monthly stipend and GI Bill/Army College Fund benefits. It’s a selective national program which Paige said he was “very honored” to be a part of.

At USC, Paige is involved with the Army ROTC program and is the candidate relations chair for student government.

Paige said a lot of his classmates have no idea that he’s a veteran.

“It typically doesn’t come up,” he said. “But when it does, people have questions. ‘Have you ever deployed?’ Some of the younger people ask, you know, ‘Have you ever shot anybody?’ You know? Like, get out of here.”

Paige thinks most people’s interest in his service stems from the fact that most people know someone in the military or have served themselves.

“Eight out of 10 people that you meet have either served or know someone that served, especially now that we have this global war on terror. Lots of people are deploying,” he said.

Paige’s goals include graduating on time in May 2014 and commanding a battalion or brigade in the Army. His dream goal, “above all goals,” is to be a general officer.

“Right now, I say I could do another 30 years in the Army,” Paige said.

As far as his educational future, Paige said he definitely wants to get his master’s in counseling and plans to put his degree to use both in the military and the private sector.

“In the Army, it’ll definitely be useful when it comes time to talk to a soldier about his problems,” Paige said. “Once I take off the uniform, I definitely want to have my own practice.”

Paige wants to make an impact on the university and hopes the university makes an impact on him, too.

“Anything I touch, I want to leave better than I found it, including myself,” he said. “You want to leave better than you came.”

William Paige spent time telling soldiers what to do as a drill sergeant at Fort Jackson, but yelling at people wasn’t what the job was all about. The Detroit, Mich., native is studying psychology at the University of South Carolina and plans to use his degree to counsel fellow soldiers. Photo by Sarah Freese.

William Paige was a volunteer drill sergeant at Fort Jackson for three years. The job gave him newfound appreciation for the people who train soldiers. Photo by Sarah Freese.