Year after year, thousands make the trek to Provo for a week of enlightenment and fun.
Skirting the Issue
By Suzanne Michelle Sears Mann (BS ’82), Highland, Utah
My favorite Education Week memory is from the time I took my teenage daughter with me. She was excited about the youth classes and meeting new people, especially new boys. We met at lunchtime one day to make plans for going home that evening when she asked, “There is a dance tonight! Can I go?”
“Well, I guess that would be all right, but you didn’t wear a dress,” I answered.
“Oh, that’s all right, Mom. I met these really nice boys today, and they are going to go to a thrift store to buy me a skirt to wear! It will be so fun!”
They did. And it was.
Only at BYU.
Exhaustion Week
By Laura Riddle Parry (BS ’08), Salt Lake City
Education Week: a time of learning, growth, and friendship—but not if you’re a student working at the BYU Creamery. Every August our carefree job at the Creamery would turn into a week of slaving over ice cream buckets—sore wrists and backs to boot—as thousands of ice-cream-hungry education-seekers descended on Provo. We definitely earned our wages during Education Week.
But we Creamery workers knew it was about more than just ice cream—it was about memories. I watched women tell their daughters that they had lived “right over there” in Heritage Halls and had come to the Creamery for ice cream when they’d had a bad day. Parents reminisced about going on dates to the Creamery. I enjoyed meeting people from all over and knowing they were having a good time on my campus.
I am glad to say I took part in this BYU tradition. One day I will, of course, take my children to the Creamery and tell them I worked “right over there” scooping ice cream. I’ll reminisce about my days as a BYU student employee. And I will always be extra nice to the Creamery workers scooping my ice cream during Education Week!
Hot Enough to Fry an Egg
By Garry L. Guymon (AS ’74), Lindon, Utah
Living close to BYU, we could travel to Education Week from home each day. However, the distance was too far to go back for lunch at noon, so we planned to buy something on campus. But after our first day we knew we had to come up with something better than standing in line the whole lunch break, then wolfing down our food on the way to our first afternoon class.
When we got into our car, my wife noted that it was hot enough to bake our lunch. So on the way home that evening, we stopped at a store and bought some frozen dinners and entrées. The next day before we went to class, we put our meals on the dashboard, leaving the windows closed. Sure enough, when we got back to the car at noon, our dinners were piping hot and, with a stash of veggies, apples, and water in a cooler in the trunk, we enjoyed a leisurely lunch as well as a siesta before going back to class. We wouldn’t do it any other way now.