If you're anything like me, a pitifully ambitious college student trying to capitalize on my summer freedom, you may be considering registering for a summer class to ease the weight of academia in the following semester. While the notion of prioritizing your education over poolside tanning is one of the most respectable prospects someone of our generation can make, certain summer classes are much more hellish than others- I know from experience. Before you submit your deposit and, in some cases, sign your mental health away, let me elaborate on the misfortune of and lessons learned from my own experience as a summer student.
Last summer, with one year of college under my belt and an aggressive amount of liberation in my heart, I had the utterly idiotic thought that enrolling myself in an intensive summer chemistry course at a local college would be a good idea. As a liberal arts student, a life science class was part of my core requirement, one that I wanted to get out of the way during the summer so as to not impact my course load during the following semester. Keep in mind: I’m a journalism major. Science is definitely not my forte, let alone the spawn of Satan that is “chemistry.” But before I even got to learning and understanding the content, I had to take the vital first step in the academic process which was actually going to class.
Because of my last minute registration, I failed to receive any announcements from the professor prior to the first day of classes. So when my first day rolled around, I excitedly prepared myself for a day that was sure to be filled with cute lab notebooks and even cuter college guys. All decked out in my hot pink sundress and loosely curled hair, I slipped on my Jack Rogers sandals, grabbed my Longchamp tote bag and headed out the door to what would quite literally be the single worst day of my life.
Little did I know, the first day of class was a lab. So while I strutted in the lab room in my sundress and sandals, all of my peers were decked out in lab coats and safety goggles. It took a few minutes for the ditzy brunette in me to realize that there was an actual lab going on and these kids weren't just uber excited for chemistry class. As if I didn’t stick out like a sore thumb enough, the professor, upon seeing me, addresses the class. The announcement goes as follows. And I quote: Now, I want all of you to look around. Don’t point fingers or name names, I don't want anyone to get embarrassed, but does anything stand out to you?
Yes, that happened. In true Elle Woods fashion, I introduced myself to the professor and attempted to explain the misunderstanding with a sorry line of “Hi, my name is Emily. I’m so sorry that I’m unprepared for today’s lab; I actually wasn’t aware that we weren’t allowed to wear open-toed shoes.”
Following the lab component was a three-hour chemistry lecture; I can confidently say that never in my life have I felt as mentally lost as I did in that lecture. It was to the point where I wasn't even struggling to keep up with the material so much as I had absolutely no idea where I was or where I was supposed to be or what even was happening. It's not even that I was aware of the material that I didn't understand, but I didn't even know what it was that I didn't know. Chemistry will do that to you.
Needless to say, the entire day had gone to shit. The icing on top of the cake was that when I left the six hour school day to retreat back to my car, it was pouring rain. No- I’m sorry- the actual icing on top of the cake was that once I finally got back to my car, dripping wet and sloshing in my Jack Rogers, I was welcomed by a $50 parking ticket. Thus began a chemistry-induced emotional breakdown.
At this point, it’s pretty obvious that my crack at academic ambition wasn’t going well. After hearing about my day, my mother suggested I drop the class. Now, any idiot with the slightest bit of common sense would have taken the direction and realized that rocking a dress to a chemistry lab wasn't very promising for the weeks of chemistry that lay ahead. I, on the other hand, am a special breed of stubborn, and was determined to prove my professor and peers wrong. That night, I watched Legally Blonde for inspiration (seriously though, I actually did), channeled my inner Elle Woods, and decided to show my mom and my peers and my professor just how smart the girl who wore the dress to lab really is.
Fast forward two classes later and I’m hiding out in the bathroom during a lecture, frantically trying to drop the class via my iPhone before I miss the deadline for a full refund. My mom was right. Chemistry wasn’t for me.
Life Lesson Number One: You Can't Be Good at Everything
Through all the stress, tears, chemistry, and parking tickets, the summer was a major reality check. I suck at chemistry. I simply suck at it. I couldn't understand the subject to save my life, and that's something that will never change, no matter how hard I study or how inspired I am by Legally Blonde. But honestly, what I lack in basic chemistry competence I compensate for in other arenas, and at the end of the day it balances out. To expect perfection in all facets of life is completely unrealistic, and there are and will be things that you're not good at- no matter how much you hate to admit it. While I commend myself for the effort in chemistry and $20 to the untouched lab goggles, I'll be the first to admit that I am quite possibly the single worst chemist in the history of the subject- and that's completely okay with me, so long as I get to wear my Jack Rogers.
Life Lesson Number Two: Everything Happens for a Reason
The whole reason for my registering for a summer chemistry class was to avoid taking a "life science" core requirement during the following semester. Since we all know how that plan turned out, it's no surprise that I ended up taking the core during the academic year, anyway. However, instead of chemistry, I am currently enrolled in a Biopsychology class, and I can honestly say that it's one of my favorite classes I've taken in my college career. Had I, by the grace of God, somehow survived the hell that is summer chemistry, I never would have experienced Biopsychology and discovered a deep-rooted and genuine interest in the subject. Everything happens for a reason, even when you're drenched in rain with tears rolling down your face as you stare at the $50 parking ticket, everything happens for a reason.
Life Lesson Number Three: No Matter How Much You Hate to Admit it, Your Parents Are Usually Right
My mom will support me through anything, and I know that. But she knew before I even registered that an intensive summer chemistry course would not be a fantastic idea for a girl who can barely comprehend the table of contents of a chemistry textbook. As much as it pains me to admit it, she was right in telling me to drop what was quite possibly the most miserable experience of my life. I'm swallowing my pride and clenching my teeth as I write this, but through my experiences that summer, parents are, more often than not, completely right in their advice and teachings.
In conclusion, I by no means am trying to discourage anyone from taking a summer class. I think that it can be one of the most rewarding experiences that someone can have, and does literal wonders for your upcoming course schedule. That being said, though, summer is a time to relax. It's a time to take a break from the stresses and anxiety of academia and strengthen your resume and character rather than your transcript. My personal experience didn't work out, but that doesn't mean that there's not an incredible summer class experience out there for you- just probably not in Chemistry.
Through it all, though, I can confidently say I have no regrets. Independence is all about gaining experience. If you’re never make mistakes, what lessons do you have to learn from? Of course, it’s a major blow to my credibility to say that I wore a dress and sandals to my Chemistry lab, but had I not made these mistakes, what lessons would I have to learn?
