The University of Scranton provides the opportunity for students who have completed degree requirements to confer their degree at one of four times throughout the academic year: Commencement exercises are held once in the academic year, following the completion of the spring semester. Students that have their degree conferred in the applicable summer, fall, intersession or spring terms may participate in the Commencement exercises. If you are a candidate for graduation with special needs to access the stage, please contact the Office of the Registrar & Academic Services Office at 570-941-7721 by May 1. Get Your Caps and Gowns at GRAD FINALE!! Dates: Monday, April 24 and Tuesday, April 25, 2017 from 11:00am-7:00pm in the DeNaples Center McIllhenny Ballroom The purpose of the Grad Finale is to provide an opportunity for graduating seniors to easily complete some of the details associated with the upcoming commencement. During Grad Finale, you can accomplish the following things (which usually takes about 30 minutes - don't worry...there's refreshments!):
Monday – Thursday: 9:00am-6:00pm Saturday & Sunday: CLOSED Monday – Thursday: 9:00am-4:30pm Saturday (of Commencement weekend): 8:00am-5:00pm If you are away from campus or you will not attend Commencement activities but would like your cap and gown mailed, you may call the Bookstore at 570-941-7454 (option 3) to request your attire be sent to you at a cost of $5.30. When sending the check for $5.30, they do require a driver’s license number with expiration date. Be sure to include your height and weight as well as your name and address. Requests must be made by May 1 to ensure sufficient time for shipment. Senior Week Registration and Events Information regarding Senior Week events, registration, and costs will be available in mid-March. Only undergraduate, full time members of the Class of 2017 are eligible to participate in Senior Week events. Please contact seniorprogramming@scranton.edu with any additional questions. Participating in Commencement (Placement Cards)
All graduates must have a placement card in order to participate in Graduate or Undergraduate Commencement. Placement cards for Master's and Doctoral candidates will be mailed by mid-May 2017. Placement cards for Bachelor's degree candidates must be picked up at either the Senior Week Registation on Sunday, May 21, 2017 from 12:00p.m.-3:00p.m. in the DeNaples Center Theater or at the DeNaples Center 1st Floor Lobby on Wednesday, May 24, or Friday, May 26, during Senior Week from 1:00p.m.-4:00p.m.Skip to Main Content We currently have openings in our 3 and 4 year-old Half-Day classes and our 4-year old Full Day class. For further information please call Loretta Lombardi at 540-568-6292. The Young Children's Program is an early learning program operated by the James Madison University College of Education. It operates daily with a morning session for three-year-olds, an afternoon session for four-year olds, and full day session for four-year-olds. Each class is led by a master teacher and a support staff of students.
The YCP is accredited by the National Association for the Education of Young Children. In addition to providing a quality educational experience for children and their families, the Young Children's Program serves as a laboratory site for JMU teacher education students. They provide assistance to the teachers and individual attention in ways that are positive and supportive to children. The YCP also serves as a setting for professional observation and research within the University community. The YCP appreciates your support of our mission. Should you care to make a donation directly to the YCP, please follow this link. YCP Hours of Operation 3 Year Olds: Monday-Friday 8:45 a.m. - 11:15 a.m. 4 Year Olds Half Day: Monday-Friday 12:00 p.m. - 3:00 p.m. 4 Year Olds Full Day: Monday-Friday 8:00 a.m. - 3:30 p.m. JMU Young Children's Program 821 S. Main Street 395 South High Street, MSC 6909Let friends in your social network know what you are reading aboutTwitterGoogle+LinkedInPinterestPosted!
A link has been posted to your Facebook feed. Log InSubscribed, but don't have a login?Activate your digital access.The kid's name was Hudspeth.Phil Avillo first encountered him in the physical therapy room at the Philadelphia Naval Hospital. It was March or April 1966.Avillo was rehabbing from losing his left leg, above the knee, the result of a bullet wound caught in combat. He had just begun his exercise routine, doing sit-ups, push-ups and stretching, when a corpsman wheeled Hudspeth into the room. The young Marine's wounds, Avillo would write later, were grievous.Hudspeth had stepped on a mine. He lost both legs, one above the knee. His arms and hands were shredded. Chunks of flesh had been torn from his forearm.They were both Marines – Avillo, a 24-year-old first lieutenant; Hudspeth, a 19-year-old private first class.Avillo remembers Hudspeth's look of bewilderment and sadness. "Your eyes had that distant, vacant look, one without a future," Avillo wrote.They became friends, bonded by their service in the Corps and their wounds.
He wrote, "Each day we had to remind ourselves that yesterday was gone, that we have to live for the moment, that we have to get on with our lives. A very hard lesson."He wrote those words about 10 years ago.And he thinks of that advice he gave many years ago, about living for the moment and getting on with life.It was pretty good advice – advice that Avillo lives, day in, day out, as his body is now betraying him, withering away from amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, ALS, Lou Gehrig's disease.THE YORK DAILY RECORDFormer Penn State star Steve Smith: His desire to live only grows strongerAvillo is originally from Long Island and New Jersey. He joined the Marines at 17 and had served a little more than five months in Vietnam when he was wounded on Dec. 7, 1965, Pearl Harbor day.After the service, he went to college and grad school, earning his doctorate in history at the University of Arizona. He was athletic before he was wounded, and he was athletic after, coaching lacrosse and basketball.
He had played lacrosse in the Marines; he was a member of the team at Camp Pendleton. He was working at the National Archives in the fall of 1975 when he got a call to come to York College to teach history.He's been in York ever since. He ran for Congress twice, against then U.S. Rep. Todd Platts. He was a Democrat running against a popular Republican incumbent in a district that heavily favored the GOP. He says he was kind of naïve, thinking that if he had the right message he could win.He retired in 2009 but continued to teach for three more years, hanging it up for good in 2012. He is 74 years old.After he retired, he wanted to travel. There were three cities in the world he wanted to visit before the end of his life. In 2011, he and his wife, Linda, went to Rome. In the spring of 2014, they went to Paris and London.He and Linda walked all over Paris, and by the end of the week he was feeling very tired. His right leg was so weak that by the time they got to London, he had to use a crutch to get around.
He was in good shape, rode a stationary bike regularly, played golf, swam and worked out at the gym. He attributed it to being in his 70s and spending 50 years on one leg.When he came home, he was able to ride his bike and swim. But he would tire easily. That fall, during a trip out West to visit family, he noticed the weakness in his leg wasn't getting any better. He started working out more, lifting weights and taking an aerobics class, trying to get stronger. But he just kept getting weaker. He could barely lift two pounds; he had no strength in his arms, his triceps were gone. He couldn't even swim two lengths of the pool. When he crawled from the pool to the deck, he couldn't stand. He needed help to get to his feet.That winter, he knew something was wrong.He went to his doctor, who referred him to Dr. Mark Lavallee, director of sports medicine at WellSpan. The doctor suspected ALS but wasn't sure. He just had a sense that was what it was.The doctor ordered more tests, an MRI and a test called an electromyography, EMG, for short, in which the doctor sticks needles in the muscles to measure electrical activity.
The results hadn't come back when Avillo and his wife left town for San Diego to visit their son Andy, who is stationed there with the Navy. The second day of their visit, the doctor called and said he had a diagnosis and that it wasn't good. When he got the call, he was standing on the deck of their rental at Torrey Pines State Beach, looking at the Pacific.Avillo asked whether he should cut his visit short and come home. The doctor said there was no need.That didn't sound good to Avillo.THE YORK DAILY RECORDPenn State community strives to help Steve Smith cope with ALS expensesHe didn't know much about ALS, except that it was Lou Gehrig's disease and that Stephen Hawking has it. He jokes that the disease had struck one of the greatest baseball players of all time and one of the greatest minds of all time; it was inevitable that it got around to him.He soon learned that there was no known cause, no cure and no treatment. "You can't do anything," he said.The doctors told him not to exercise, not to tire his muscles.
Doing so would exacerbate the disease. When you exercise, you break down muscle. With ALS, it never comes back.Last summer, though, he continued to play golf, that was until it became too much.He was able to get around on crutches until the middle of last September. His physical therapist suggested that he move to a walker. He always thought a walker would be unsafe, what with the wheels and everything. But it was an improvement.After he nearly fell using the walker, he went to a wheelchair.The disease continued its march, incrementally stealing his strength. He cannot feed himself. He can't dress himself. He can't shave himself. He has home health-care workers, arranged by the VA, which has classified ALS as a service-related disease, come in every day to take care of him.He knows the end game. He knows where this disease is going. Eventually, he will lose the ability to move. He will lose the ability to swallow. He will lose the ability to breathe and will have to be hooked up to a respirator.
He has read several memoirs of others who have been stricken with ALS, and he noticed something they have in common. All of them end about a year before the authors died. That last year is never chronicled. He has no sense of what that last year is like, or whether there even is a last year.THE YORK DAILY RECORDBook Review: 'Until I Say Good-bye: My Year of Living With Joy'He does not want pity. He wants people to know about this disease. It's not about him. It's about the disease.He's involved in research projects on the disease. The doctors with the ALS clinic at Penn State's Hershey Medical Center study his case and conduct tests. He advocates for more research into the disease, its causes and potential treatments and, possibly, a cure. He tries to raise awareness of the disease and its mysteries.And it is a mysterious disease. Avillo found that two other men who had been in the Philadelphia Naval Hospital at about the same time he had been there had come down with ALS. One of them, a Navy medic, just died last December.
Another was a guy who had been wounded in '64 and had been in the same hospital room as Avillo. The guy was a Marine, like Avillo. He was a teacher, like Avillo. And now, he has ALS – like Avillo.At least, he said, he doesn't feel any pain.What choice does he have?He tries to make the best of it. He and his wife moved from their home in East York to a condo in Regents' Glen. He has access to the cart paths around the golf course and can wheel around outside. He still enjoys a good glass of wine or a cold IPA. He gets a lot of support from the VA, the doctors and staff at the ALS clinic in Hershey and from his fellow Marines.He is pretty stoic about it. He doesn't wallow in self-pity. He thinks that being wounded in Vietnam, losing a leg at such a young age, made dealing with ALS easier. Well, maybe not easier, but allowed him to accept what was happening to him and be at peace with it.He thinks about Hudspeth and the piece he wrote about him about a decade ago, wondering where he was and how he was doing.