Mother Caps Balancing Act With CLU Degree

For Pam Willrodt, graduating from Cal Lutheran University on Saturday was an indescribably joyous, yet bittersweet moment.

The 39-year-old Newbury Park resident and single mother of three teens was among the 583 graduates who celebrated the milestone on the sun-splashed field of Mount Clef Stadium.

For some, the college’s 34th annual commencement ceremony was an obvious relief punctuated by hoots, hollers and gleeful exclamations of “I’m outta here,” while for others it was a christening into the adult world. But for Willrodt, the ceremony brought a feeling of confidence that she said has eluded her for a long time.

“It’s hard to say exactly how I’m feeling,” Willrodt said before the ceremony. “For a long time I felt I wasn’t good enough because I didn’t have a degree, so it feels great to have finally caught up. But on the other hand, school’s been such a part of my life that I almost feel lost now that it’s over.”

After more than 20 years of abbreviated attempts at college and five years of precariously balancing her life among the demands of school, motherhood and a full-time job at Amgen, Willrodt earned her degree in business administration and did it with honors--her lowest grade was an A-minus.

Willrodt, who enrolled in Cal Lutheran’s adult degree program in the fall of 1992, took just one evening class a term to complete her degree. Juggling the day-to-day responsibilities was harder than she ever imagined.

“I guess the hardest parts were the times when I’d have to choose between work, school and the kids,” she said. “That was tough, but somehow I always found a way to manage.”

She more than managed. In addition to maintaining a stellar grade-point average and impressing professors with her drive and intellectual muscle, Willrodt led the litigation research team for Amgen and cared for her three kids--Geoffrey, 18, Beau, 14, and Hayley, 13.

“Pam is really a rare individual,” said Sharon Docter, one of Willrodt’s professors. “The fact that she went to school on top of everything else tells a lot about what kind of person she is.”

The daughter of a used-car salesman and a homemaker in Salinas, Willrodt aspired to be a chemistry teacher. She enrolled at Hartwell Junior College while still in high school and later graduated as her high school’s valedictorian.

But lack of money prevented her from enrolling in college full time after graduation, so she found a secretarial job at the local Smucker’s fruit-processing plant.

Then, at 19, she went out on a blind date. Three months later she was married.

“It seemed like the right thing to do, but even then I still thought I’d get to go to college,” she said.

Willrodt’s father, with whom she was very close, was killed in 1986 by a drunk driver while riding his bicycle.

“That made me think a lot about life,” she said. “It made me evaluate everything and I decided it was time for a change.”

A week after the funeral, the family packed up and started driving. They ended up in Madera, where they bought a yogurt store and began a new life.

She later made her second attempt at higher education, enrolling at Fresno-Pacific College as a music major, but divorce forced her to quit school and find a job to make ends meet.

In 1989, she and her ex-husband, who had relocated to Oxnard, decided to give their marriage a second chance “just to see if we’d made the right choice” about divorce. They had, and ended up separating for good a short time later.

By this time Willrodt was working at Amgen and quickly moved up the ranks to her current position as litigation support manager, a job she has no intention of leaving even with her degree.

“I’ve been there since the beginning and I’ve never gotten tired of it,” she said.

On Saturday, after listening to U.S. District Judge W. James Ware’s commencement address and the homilies of administrators, a visibly moved Willrodt walked to the podium to receive her long-awaited diploma.

Afterward, Willrodt was among the robe-clad graduates celebrating the day, some quietly and some more raucously.

One student roared through the crowd after the ceremony, giving bear hugs to anyone and everyone, while two women alternately laughed and wept as they realized they would be going their separate ways.

Others simply launched their mortarboards into the air, then ran to meet relatives who had endured the stifling humidity to celebrate the graduates’ successful passage from the halls of academia.

Willrodt was met by two of her children. Despite the broad smile and happy hugs shared with fellow students, she often had to lift her glasses to wipe tears from her eyes.

“It’s a wonderful feeling knowing you’re done,” she said. “But I am going to miss it.”