Navigating through a maze of humans, plucking up the courage to converse with professional giants, talks circulating around accomplishments and qualifications, free pens, and countless blazers. Another year, and the career fair has officially come and gone. Students gather and await the fair, counting down the minutes in a snaking, never-ending line, much like the crazed Black Friday shoppers awaiting sales. The buzz of the spectacle doesn’t limit itself to the isles of anxiety-ridden, but no less smartly dressed, undergrads, but extends to the far-reaches of campus, presenting itself as a cause for insomnia amongst many students. A company professional simply introducing themselves to a student immediately gives rise to awkward introductions, too-firm handshakes, and sweaty palms. Or maybe that’s just me.

Despite the level of nervousness these career fairs might instill in students, they can be great opportunities to get a glimpse into the “real world.” Discussing future prospects with a successful, educated adult can be quite exhilarating, in fact. Amiable interrogations, resume dissections, internship offers, salary negotiations, this is what we’ve been working towards, right! Right? Well, if the career fair has been my first peek into the scope of the “real world”, then I’m not really sure how I feel about it.

When my fellow students prepare for career fairs, they dress in their best pants, shirts, dresses, and skirts, put on their most mature face, and practice discussing their most note-worthy accomplishments in their best-rehearsed grown-up voice. This display can be seen throughout other stages in life, commonly spotted in older children trying to emulate the actions of parents and adults. That’s all this is really, we’re just kids trying to show that we’re ready to graduate from the kids table. To the professionals of the career fair: don’t let this outward façade fool you of the degree of disarray occurring inside any one of these students.

To me, the entire fair seems to juxtapose our college experience and the moments we value. When I see my classmates at these career fairs, I don’t see their GPA’s and their leadership qualifications and their levels of computer savviness. I see slightly terrified, slightly excited faces inside slightly awkwardly fitting suits and slightly awkward smiles that are saying “Please help me my palms are sweating.” It’s not the desire to succeed professionally and utilize a degree that confuses me. I fully support the idea to get a job, have a profession, and develop a career.

What baffles me is this idea that these are the best days of our lives right now. When we shake the hand of a company’s representative, are we simultaneously saying hello to a fate of workoholism and goodbye to all the experiences that have helped shaped who we are? You see, when I look around career fairs, I don’t see transcripts and I don’t see resumes. I don’t see suits. I see memories, laughs, all-nighters, unforgettable moments, along with the ones we keep trying to remember but can’t. I see my friends and this community that has helped me grow so much and influence the person I am. These can be the best days of our lives right now, and we can firmly shake hands to a lifetime of workoholism. But we don’t have to. We just need to remember this spark, this community, the stupid laughs, the sweaty palms. I’m ready to work and I’m ready to succeed, so long as that lets me sit at the kids table every now and again.