As December approaches, multicolored holiday lights adorn the streets, hot chocolate is popularized, and the crisp air is a sweet mixture of frost and Christmas music. Yet, for many college students, the “most wonderful time of the year” is steamrolled by the stress of first semester finals.
For many of us, stress levels aren’t just “through the roof”--they’re seeping through every open window, every crack in the foundation, and every ajar door, running rampantly in a huge, black cloud encompassing our college campuses. We study rigorously, and simultaneously we itch for the semester’s conclusion.
The impending doom of finals week resides partly in the name itself; it is the “final” test, the “final” essay, and seemingly the “final” word in our lives. We believe that everything resides in our final grade, and thus, we must put all other things aside--including our health.
Our culture dictates a tunnel-vision mentality during this time of the year. As high-achieving college students approaching finals week, we supposedly should bury ourselves 24/7 in our books. Seemingly, if we’re not straggling into our 8 am classes with bloodshot eyes and blank, sleepless stares, we’re doing something wrong. We label ourselves “lazy” for choosing sleep and nutrition over constant schoolwork.
Fortunately, I attend a university where the professors and staff couldn't emphasize more the importance of overall health. They do not wish for us to slave away through the night in pursuit of a perfect mark. They value us as people; they see us as more than a 4.0, a 3.7, or a 1.9.
Thus, the true paradox lies in the fact that we, as college students, create these impossible standards for ourselves. We assume that others will disapprove of us for choosing our health over our grade point average, so we continue our sleep-deprived march. We fear the made-up disapproval of our professors and the assumed judgement of our peers, so we neglect our well-being entirely.
Further, a sick competition grows in conversations between students. I hear such conversations nearly every day: one student complains of only getting four hours of sleep the previous night due to studying for a class, and the second student bounces back with her account of sleeping only two hours. Finally, a third student interjects with the infamous tale of the all-nighter.
In awe, the other two students wonder how she does it. Why did they choose sleep when their peer could clearly function with none?
They strive to be more like her.
And the sickly cycle continues.
Yet, I am no stranger either to this phenomenon. Last Thursday at 4:30 in the morning, had it not been for a staff member at my university, my three-hour sleep would have ceased to exist. She convinced me, a complete mess of tears and anxiety, that my mental and physical health was more important than my grades.
Even though I knew that sleep was overwhelmingly my best option, the sluggish steps I took up the stairs and into my dorm room were incredibly difficult.
I had bought into our academic generation’s destructive culture.
As college students, we are creating this culture for ourselves, and thus, we can choose to stop. We are worth so much more than a series of letters etched on a report. We are complex, beautiful beings created by God himself.
Ultimately, though college presents us with a myriad of opportunities, sometimes, the most valuable opportunities we take are those which allow us to sit back, relax, and put our health first.
