I'm going to open this article up with the one thing that no college student ever wants to talk about: risk management. I know. Run away, right? This must be some other overly-cautious loser just ranting about how Greek-letter organizations are the most irresponsible flocks of hooligans who ever cursed a college town, right?
Wrong. Let me just open this rant up with three words I continuously live by: risk is AWESOME.
Yes, you read that correctly. Risk is one of the best concepts ever introduced to mankind. Risk is the foundation of greatness; it's the educated roll of the dice that keeps us on the edge of our seats, teases us with the hopes of success even after failing, and lifts us up when the cookie crumbles in our favor. Risk is the catalyst of adrenaline rushes, of fear-conquering euphoria. This summer, I took the risk of cliff diving (with advice from someone who had done it before), and the reward was well worth it. I conquered a fear, and felt a thrill like nothing else.
Unfortunately, we as college students have begun to risk the wrong things. The word itself has begun to carry negative connotations. To us, "risk" brings up mental pictures of handles and handcuffs, where reward is reputation and consequences are of the legal sort. We take risks based off of what others will think of us. We'll risk that next shot, because how else will we prove how tough we are? We risk letting in those people that aren't on a guest list, because how else will we have a top party reputation?
These aren't just risks. They're flat-out gambles, with rewards that aren't worth the consequences. What we need to do is start taking risks that have long-term positive effects, and we need to take those risks the right way. The question we need to ask is: can we live with the inevitability that we will fail at some point in time? Do we have a back-up plan, or a recovery plan? Will failure hurt others? Will turning down risks really hurt us?
Go take a risk this week. I dare you to take a risk that doesn't involve alcohol, or what someone else thinks about you. Take a risk, just for you. Jump not to hear the cheers of those around you. Jump to feel the wind, to embrace the adrenaline, and to appreciate the stability of the ground beneath your feet.
I leave you with a few lines by William Arthur Ward. Carpe Diem, ladies and gentlemen.
"To laugh is to risk appearing the fool.
To weep is to risk appearing sentimental.
To reach out is to risk involvement,
To expose feelings is to risk exposing your true self.
To place your ideas and
dreams before a crowd is to risk their loss.
To love is to risk not being loved in return,
To live is to risk dying,
To hope is to risk despair,
To try is to risk failure.
But risks must be taken because
the greatest hazard in life is to risk nothing.
The person who risks nothing, does nothing,
has nothing, is nothing."