As the summer slowly begins to wind down, students across the country will have either begun or are anxiously anticipating, the beginning of the fall college semester. Rising seniors in high school likely are realizing the inevitable arrival of college, a foreign challenge leering over the horizon. Many content creators will upload articles and videos to the Internet targeting this niche audience of young adults desperately seeking guidance in the most pivotal years of their lives. They will all espouse the same advice: make friends outside your dorm room, talk to your professors, and let the illustrious yet vaguely defined "fate" guide you in the right direction. Other creators will use their mistakes to warn neophytes of all the wrong decisions they can make. I watched all the videos, read all the blogs, and let me tell you: they fall short to the audience desperately advice on how to handle a situation neither horrific nor idyllic. So let this be a cautionary tale for some, and an advice column for others in the same "in-between" category I find myself in.
A quick word of advice to the rising seniors: don’t listen to your parents, your friends, or even your guidance counselor. You have to listen to yourself and discover what you want; as nice as it may seem to please your parents, you are the one spending four or more years at whatever institution you choose. Take it from someone who assumed that what my immediate and extended family thought best was also what I wanted.
All throughout high school, I considered attending a larger university in the city until my senior year when suddenly, a liberal arts school tucked in the mountains became the neighborhood of my future. Lost in my attempts to please them, I found myself agreeing to these new prospects. In no way do I blame my parents for this; on the contrary, I blame myself for not speaking up and for letting my own opinions become muddled with theirs.
I entered my freshman year optimistically and refusing to acknowledge that the school didn’t quite feel like home; and then, like clockwork, the cold set in, the small city nearby became repetitive, and my experience with my roommate turned ghoulish. I trudged through the last months of freshman year as if it were wet cement, realizing that, despite having friends and a social life, I went every day feeling morose and unfulfilled. I envied my friends from high school, doing amazing things every day at the universities of their dreams. Another word of advice: don’t go on social media that often, because everyone is having a better time at their school than you are at yours.
During the summer going into sophomore year, someone convinced me to try to transfer to a school down south. It became the solution to all my problems; a big school with more people, Greek life, the sunshine and not dreary clouds, and big biology labs filled to the brim with research opportunities my school cannot afford. I applied for spring admission and was accepted on the caveat that I would pay full tuition. Emotionally devastated at the financial impossibility, I spent time mourning things I never had, and nothing helped me recover.
Eventually, I tried making my school feel like home; I helped start a new nonprofit on campus, made new friends, and immersed myself in my studies. And still, despite my efforts, I sometimes feel just as constricted at my school as I did before. Although, I realize how ineffectual my negativity is, and I now follow a regime of making myself think positively. Although occasionally I may resent my school and my choices, I discovered some things that make it easier to balance any regret I have.
And so here is my advice to those that feel as trapped as I am, but are too afraid or ashamed to admit it. First: it is OK. You are entitled to feel the way you do. Being in love with your university may seem like the popular thing to do, but do not masquerade your emotions, because that is only a disservice to yourself.
Second: find friends that will listen considerately when you talk about your feelings. I have been on both sides of the spectrum. Some will try to defend your school and lash out when you convey a negative emotion about something they may love about your school. However, some will agree with you, and express their own relief they are not alone. It is important to have both kinds of these friends for balance. Do not let the friend in love with your school make you feel selfish or entitled, and do not fall into an unproductive pity party with your friend feeling the same way as you.
Third: get involved. Even though you may still feel stuck when you do, getting involved on campus can help you network into new friend groups and distract yourself from negativity. Join a new club or recreation sport, or get involved in your campus’s community. Opening new doors for yourself can help your school feel less like a trap and more like an opportunity for growth. A cautionary word of advice: You have to connect with whatever organization or group you choose. Don’t join for the sake of distraction alone; become involved with causes or people you know will make you happy despite your circumstances.
Fourth: remember, although college is a unique time in your life, it is only for four years. That might seem passive, and maybe even initially depressing, but it’s the truth. Your situation is not forever, and, thus, neither is your discomfort. Realize, though, that because everything is temporary, you should not waste your four years being sorry for yourself. Try your absolute hardest to make the best of these four years keeping in mind that you will never get an undergraduate experience again. If you have to draw from outside inspiration, realize that you will be able to go on to graduate school or a wonderful job doing something that will make you happy. New experiences are just around the corner and happiness is all but inevitable, I promise.
