From majoring in chaos to finding my path
By David S. Shymkus, BSPA’78
When I graduated from Columbus High School in Columbus, Indiana, in 1973, I was not the best or brightest student. I did have a very strong work ethic, spending most of my free time working outdoors at our local golf course. Still, I prepared to head off to Indiana University even though I didn’t have much of a clue about what I wanted to do with my life. IU appealed to me because it was close enough to home for occasional laundry service and a good meal from Mom, yet far enough away to explore my newfound independence—and occasionally get into mischief.
So, in August 1973, I arrived at McNutt Quad as a naïve but inquisitive student. I joke today that during my freshman year, my blood alcohol level was sometimes higher than my GPA. What can I say? It was the ‘70s.
Like many students, I had no clear career path in mind. Maybe journalism? After all, my dad had been a journalism major and went on to become editor of the Homewood-Flossmoor Star in Illinois. That interest lasted one class before I switched to recreation management. Didn’t mowing grass at a golf course qualify me for that?
But during my sophomore year, I heard about a relatively new school at IU: the School of Public and Environmental Affairs, now called the O’Neill School. The school was housed at the Poplars Event and Conference Center, and if it was good enough for Elvis Presley and his entourage when they gave a concert in 1974, it was good enough for SPEA.
My interest was piqued, and looking over the curriculum was like looking at the menu of my favorite restaurant. I had always been a “fresh air/outside guy,” and I could take classes in urban planning, geography, geology, environmental science, and environmental health while also learning about public policy and administration. For the first time, my classes felt connected to both my interests and the real world around me.
I remember the environmental science and ecology classes taught by Dr. James Randolph, who helped me better understand the importance of being environmentally conscious and mindful of the world around us.
Charles Wise and Jeannie Patterson, the first two faculty hired at the O'Neill School, in front of the Poplars Research and Conference Center in 1972.
I also remember being thoroughly skewered on a public policy paper I wrote for Dr. Karl O’Lessker. Looking back, he was right; the paper was awful. But his high standards made me a better writer, and those writing skills stayed with me throughout my career.
I finally stopped majoring in chaos. My junior and senior years became my best academically, and the campus that had once felt enormous and overwhelming during my freshman year became something I could navigate.
In 1978, I proudly received my B.S. degree and a certificate in urban studies. Following graduation, I worked under a grant provided by Section 208 of the Clean Water Act before joining the Bartholomew County Department of Environmental Health and later the City of Columbus Department of Community Development. I was specifically involved in writing community development block grants for the city, which advanced my writing skills and attention to detail.
Eventually, I transitioned into a career in employee benefits and spent the next 42 years in the private sector. Throughout my career, my experience at the O’Neill School played a large part in my success. The school taught me to be highly detailed, environmentally conscientious, self-disciplined, and administratively efficient—skills that proved valuable no matter the field.
I like to think of my life as being multidisciplinary by accident. But perhaps that is exactly what the O’Neill School prepares many of us for all along.
More than four decades later, I still appreciate the direction, discipline, and curiosity that the O’Neill School gave me. And yes, I still enjoy mowing grass outside.