Someone recently asked me, in response to my description of what I study, why I even bother going to school.
Let me quickly set the scene: I am at a party, enjoying myself and seeing some friends for the first time since I left school in May. Everyone is smiling and lots of cute little freshmen are running around clandestinely drinking. It's not hard to find topics of conversation, and even when the conversation lulls, there are dozens of other people to talk to.
And yet, somehow, I found myself introduced to an upperclassman who could have passed for a tenth grader and who had the audacity to look me in the eyes and ask me why I even bother going to college.
The first things that came to mind were these:
- Are you for real?
- Yeah, I guess he's serious.
- Keep smiling; don't be rude.
- Why am I even talking to someone who doesn't own floss or face wash?
I have spent the last two years trying to decide what I want to do with my life. It's not like I haven't asked myself this very question time and time again: if I don't know what I'm doing, why am I even here? Why am I spending all this money on something that might not even pan out?
I will tell you why I'm here.
I am double majoring. I am trying to study abroad. I am active in my sorority and in two other organizations on campus. I have two jobs. Nothing about what I'm currently doing could be considered "coasting," nor could it be considered "easy". I'm at school to work. I'm at school to learn. I'm at school to make connections and build my own life. Believe it or not, the existence of my ovaries does not automatically mean that I feel inclined to trick people into taking care of me.
I'm here to make connections. I'm here to find those people who think like me and those who don't. I'm here to find mentors and role models and I'm here to be that person for those who come after me. I am here for the exact same reasons that you are. I just smile a little more frequently (and I take significantly better care of my skin, but let's not get petty here).
So, don't look at me and automatically think that you're better than I am because you spend more time thinking about numbers that I don't care about, because I certainly don't think that what I'm learning about makes me any better than you. I can see in your face that you think less of me because I spend time on my appearance. Your people skills are superb.
Above all, I go to school so that I can learn to deal with elitist jerks like you.
