Sheri Parmelee moved 22 times. The more she moved, the more elusive a college degree became for the mother of two.
She enrolled at five different colleges but was never in one location long enough to earn a diploma. Years would pass, she would get married, divorced and remarried, and would give birth twice before she would enroll for the last time.
But come May 22, the senior communication and English double major will graduate from the same university, on the same day and at just about the same time as her 20-year-old son, David, a senior computer science major.
Now she worries she might not make it to David’s graduation, the same son she homeschooled since the sixth grade and has gone to church with every Sunday. The same son she has watched sleep in the passenger’s seat for the past five years on their ride to the campus.
Coming to this university was a blessing, Sheri says, because she questioned at times whether she would ever finish college. Her first husband, who was enlisted with the U.S. Air Force, took her across the country and out of the classroom.
Even though she bounced from Ohio to Florida to Texas to New Jersey to Maryland, Sheri always planned on making it to college.
She worked at Disney World, as a real estate agent, as an interior decorator – saving as much as she could for 16 years, hoping she would one day spend it on her education.
Her plan went into effect about five years ago when David graduated from high school and was admitted to the university at 15.
Kids would tease him in elementary school and called him “Einstein.” He was bored with class, and “three-fourths of the way through sixth grade,” Sheri says, she decided to homeschool him.
She thought he was too young to live on the campus by himself and he was not old enough to legally drive, so how he would get from Bowie to College Park was on his mother’s mind.
In the beginning of the summer of 2001, Sheri hand-delivered her application to the admissions office. June and July passed quickly, and August started winding down. Sheri had not heard anything from the university.
She called the admissions office and demanded an answer. The woman on the phone said, “I’m sorry, I am not allowed to tell you over the phone.”
“Please. Please. Classes start in two days,” Sheri remembers saying, and smiles.
Walking around the campus, she is typically dragging her blue or purple back pack – she’s worn through the plastic wheels on five of them – with a silk purple flower clipped to the right side of her shoulder-length brown hair. Her clothes, jewelry and silk flower always match.
She wakes up around dawn every day and walks six miles – four shy of her daily regimen – before coming to the campus.
She parks in Comcast Garage and walks down past the Jeong H. Kim Engineering building, through the circle, up the mall and to Susquehanna Hall in 13 minutes, early enough to be one of the first students in her Arthurian Legend class.
In all her classes, she sits in the front row.
“She’s so engaged,” says English professor Tom Moser, who is teaching Sheri for the third time. “On an emotional and intellectual level.”
Open her calendar book and there’s a rainbow of highlighted assignments. There is a different color for each class. Sometimes she reminds the professor when something is due.
“You can just tell she appreciates learning,” says Ana Varela, a senior communication major who met Sheri in Intermediate Spanish, Sheri’s hardest class. “She is the type of person who will always do her homework.”
Sheri admits she has never missed class and has only been late once. But that was because another professor lost track of time and held the students longer than he should have, Sheri says.
“She’s an older person but is still open minded and enjoys being around young people. Kinda spunky too,” Varela says, adding that she is not exactly sure how old Sheri is.
“I’m 32,” Sheri says sternly. “It is a good year. I plan to stay that way till the day I die.” Meanwhile, her first son is 29.
Upon graduation, Sheri says she will not miss the awkward looks and moments that come with the first few days of every semester as students grapple with the fact that she’s not their teacher.
She also won’t miss all the Papa John’s pizza she ate over the years during mid-terms and finals.
She will miss being around young people, whom she calls great thinkers, bright and encouraging. She will miss her time with David. During their first semester together, they would meet each other for lunch about once a week, then it became once a month, and now they cannot recall the last time they ate together.
“College has kept me so busy it’s easier for me to let go and let him grow,” Sheri says.
What she will do when she graduates is still up in the air.
Right now she just hopes her 10-mile-a-day walking routine carries her to David’s graduation in time.
The commencement ceremony for the communication department, where Sheri will receive her first degree, is scheduled for 9 a.m. at Ritchie Coliseum. David’s graduation is set to begin at 10 a.m. at the Reckord Armory.
Like everything else in her life, Sheri has a plan. She bargained with commencement officials to let her be the first undergraduate to receive her degree – after the speaker, the doctoral students and the graduate students.
She’ll walk on stage, “shake hands, shake hands, shake hands and keep going” in full stride off the stage and across Route 1, just like she were walking from Comcast Center to Susquehanna Hall.
Now, however, a black cap will take the place of her purple flower, and instead of rushing to make her Arthurian Legend class, she’ll be rushing toward the person she calls the greatest blessing in her life, and her inspiration for finishing school – David.
Contact reporter Jared A. Favole at jared.favole@gmail.com.
