As the end of my freshman year of college is coming to a close, I am astounded at how fast it went. I hope some of you are thinking the same. What puzzles me the most, though, is the fact that I will be returning here this fall.
As crazy as it sounds, it never clicked in my head that I would be at college for more than one year. I mean, I was going to get a degree, but that was just going to magically appear one day in my mental schedule.
The real cause of my shortsightedness was that I couldn’t see college becoming mundane, routine. The whole K-12 educational system points you straight to college. With all the emphasis put on it, college becomes an institution of mythic proportions. Your grandparents tell you, “It’ll be the best time of your life.” Your parents finally acknowledge your independence … at least, mine kind of did. Do any of you have parents stopping by your room to see if you’ve cleaned up? That’s normal, right?
So you finally get to college, and it is the coolest thing ever. You are surrounded by people your age. You can set your own schedule (we all have had those days that don’t start until noon). You get credit for taking classes such as trampoline or mountain biking, and you can’t walk five blocks without passing a coffee shop. This is heaven.
So everyone indulges — big partying, on weekdays no less, staying up late and skipping class for the sole reason that you don’t have to be there. This was the point of all that previous education, right? So that I can pay money directly to do everything non-academic? Indeed it is. C’s get degrees, man.
I’m just kidding. But college is all about fun and wonder when you first get there. The first time I found out about Cinemark Movies 12, I thought that Eugene was the greatest place on earth. When I got pie and coffee for two bucks at Marie Callender’s, I swore I would never leave.
Since then I have rethought that statement. The campus, beautiful as it is, has become familiar. I know how to get from PLC to Columbia to Gerlinger. Had I attempted such a feat at the beginning of the year, I would have been reported missing after three days, and an extensive search party would have found me in the fetal position somewhere near the EMU.
The incoherent jargon that once left me in tears of frustration is now perfectly distinguishable. I know what it means if someone is taking a “J” class or “CIS.” If someone says “121” or “122,” I know instinctually that it is Writing 121 or 122, and I sigh sympathetically and talk about how much the class sucks.
I am no longer impressed by people who can grow beards. The chief male accomplishment in high school, one I failed to reach, is now just as common as seeing bleached hair. Just walk into any physics class and look at the professor. I swear beards are required to teach college physics.
I am now used to living independently. I vacuum. I VACUUM! Wow, that still impresses me.
This year has been great. But what is going to happen next year? I mean, I’ll have to venture into the uncharted regions of cooking (expect to hear more about that next year) but what else? There will be different classes in a building that I might not have been in, new teachers and if I’m lucky, some new video games in the break. But the magic will be gone. Sniffle.
I’m wondering what the upperclassmen are thinking. I’m wondering if any of them have read this far. But I’m interested in their perspectives about how college progresses. Maybe there should be a seminar. We could call it “When College Gets Commonplace.” People would talk about how they coped with the college routine. Everyone would hug and cry, and there would be free coffee and cookies. It would be great.
Well, I’ll be back next year like most of you. To the graduating seniors and grad students, I am in awe of you. I hope to one day be in your shoes. As for the rest of us, we’ll just sit around laughing at the new freshman. Maybe that’s what keeps college exciting. When they come to us asking if we know where the University Health Center is because they are having an allergic reaction, we’ll say, “Ha ha ha, silly freshman.” But inside we’ll ache for the days when the world contained so much wonder.