Just the other day I was updating my LinkedIn account, since, having officially graduated college a month ago, I figured it was time to start taking this "adulting" thing seriously. (Gulp). As I scrolled through my “Experience” section (I probably included way more positions than necessary; I’m nothing if not an overachiever), it hit me how many opportunities came about directly through or as a result of connections with my school.
Internships. Jobs. Writing and editing positions. I don’t even think I tried very hard to earn these opportunities. They all kind of fell into my lap, and I snagged them like a dutifully opportunistic (think: Asian) mini snapping turtle.
OK, so I count myself blessed. But I’m not the only one. The more I think about it, the more I realize that college is the prime time to put ourselves out there. Your undergraduate years are possibly the most ideal incubation period of life. In college, you’re surrounded by peers who have similar passions and drives but also vastly different backgrounds and perspectives. In college, your professors are there to invest in you, and they want you to succeed (yes, even the prof who assigned that cumulative organic chemistry final). In college, you’re exploring alongside like-minded people, and your mentors are actively looking for tools and experiences to help you better understand who you are and what you want.
So take up those offers, internships, research positions, leadership roles. Make the most of opportunities that come your way when you’re an undergraduate. People see something in us crazy millennials, and if they’re willing to take a chance on you, then be willing to take a chance on them. In the words of a musical that’s recently skyrocketed to popularity, “I’m young, scrappy, and hungry/And I’m not throwing away my shot.” American founding father, hip-hop artist, college student . . . those shots—they might open doors that you’d never even know existed.
All that being said, I also have to remember my last week of school, when I was asked to write a six-word memoir of my undergraduate experience. I went with: “Realized degree matters less than relationships.” Admittedly, not my finest or pithiest work. But gut-honest. This was one of my biggest takeaways from college.
I’m still going to dispel the myth that you always meet your lifelong best friends in college. Yes, a lot of people do. But sometimes you don’t. Sometimes you meet people who try to be friends with you even though you’re utterly incompatible. Sometimes your best friends freshman year aren’t in your contact list by the end of senior year. Sometimes you meet lovely individuals who rock your world, but only in your last semester of college, when it all feels like it’s about to end anyway.
But does it matter? Take a risk on people. Because people truly matter. And loving people—no matter how hard it is, no matter what comes out of it—is what makes us who we are. Don’t be afraid to get entangled in relationships. It won’t be a smooth ride, and there will be bruises and scars, but you’ll understand yourself way better. Other people tell us far more about ourselves than the voices in our own heads can.
Plus, those memories that you make with friends can last a lifetime. Going home with each other for the holidays. Finagling food from sketchy dorm kitchens because you’re sick of sketchier cafeteria food. Delirious late night study sessions. Movie nights and shared fandoms. Fast food runs (always past 10 p.m., or midnight). Partying it up in whatever way you prefer. Getting advice on snagging a certain someone. Getting advice on friend-zoning another someone. Proofreading each other’s fluffified essays. Talking about either the most banal or the most profound topics until the night has rolled itself off to bed.
So if you’re lucky (unlucky?) enough to still be in your undergraduate years, invest in educational and experiential opportunities. But even more than that, invest in real, beautiful, messy people. The best job out there won’t do much good if you don’t have friends to keep you at least partially sane.
