Good for them. Of course, if I could put off growing up for just one more year, I'd jump at the opportunity so fast heads would spin.
This past week, along with 400 fellow members of the class of 2004, I began my fourth and final year of undergraduate education. For three years I've roamed the friendly confines of Amherst College, from the overcrowded and under-cleaned restrooms of James Hall to the beer-drenched basement of Stone Dormitory, all the while blissfully unaware that time was about to catch up to me and that my youth was fading into memory. In fact, the startling realization that Father Time had no intention of going easy on me didn't occur until this summer, when it seemed as if everywhere I turned I was forced to field variants of the same query.
Now, I love answering questions about my future. And by love, I mean it makes me want to vomit. "What're you gonna do next year?" "Excited about setting out on your own?" "What're you going to do with a Political Science degree?" And, my personal favorite, "Ready for the real world, Big Guy?" The answers to the above questions are, respectively, "I don't know," "Not in the least," "Hang it on my wall" and "Leave me alone." From May until August, everywhere I turned, it seemed someone was waiting to painfully remind me that my childhood was retreating further and further into the past and that big decisions would soon have to be made.
The most blatant intrusion into my fantasy of perpetual innocence came while I was casually minding my own business at a Fourth of July party. There's a barbecue going, people are by the pool, everyone's having fun. Not a care in the world. Until, that is, a high school friend saunters over and strikes up a conversation about future plans. She proudly confides that she has it all planned out; a job, business school, married at age 30, three kids by 35. Stopping just short of picking out her children's names and filling out her bridal registry, she asks me what my plans are. Naturally, as a highly motivated go-getter, I had an answer all ready for her: I mumbled something about having to get a drink, and then I got the hell out of there.
There are at least two ways to look at one's final year of college. For many, it is the last hurdle to freedom and the chance to pursue a lifelong ambition. After this year, the class of 2004 will be set loose on an unsuspecting world, ready to follow their dreams. For others, including me, looking at the last year of college at this early date is nothing short of terrifying. After all, it was just three short years ago that I showed up on campus with enthusiasm, an open mind and a minivan full of brand new goodies from Linens 'n Things. Now, a scant 36 months later, the clock is ticking on my life as an undergrad.
It seems obvious to me that the solution to this problem would be an optional fifth undergraduate year, bequeathed to us at no additional charge through the generosity of the trustees of Amherst College. This four-year system just isn't cutting it for me. We all know that for many, freshman year is a bit of a culture shock. For the '07s, the primary task this year will be to get acclimated to a college schedule, dorm life and existence without the benefit of motor vehicles. In fact, freshmen, thrust into the idyllic bubble that is Amherst College, will likely go weeks at a time without stepping foot off campus. For many, it isn't until sophomore year that they seem to begin exploring the areas around Amherst. Figuring out the intricate ins and outs of college life takes even longer. For me personally, I didn't feel like I'd truly put it all together until somewhere in the middle of my junior year. And then voila, before you know it, senior year pops up.
Senior year at Amherst is like senior year at high school, but even more so. In my high school, average by almost any standards, senior year was a breeze. The pace of classes slowed down, teachers became more lenient and students filled the days with idle chat concerning what lay ahead of them in college. Yes, applications were stressful, but for the most part, we all knew what we'd be doing the next year. More importantly, we knew that at 17 and 18 years old, we still had some good, lazy years ahead of us. Ah, how young we were.
Being a senior at Amherst is like being a senior in high school with the walls around you knocked down. Instead of the tunnel vision I had while filling out applications to a dozen similar colleges, I am now faced with a world of possibilities. Graduate school, law school, fellowships, traveling, a job: it's like going to a restaurant with an inexhaustible menu, but the impatient waitress wants your answer right away.
"At last!" the go-getter exclaims. "Finally, I am in position to do what I've already wanted!"
"Crap!" I blurt out. "Does that mean its all over? That I have to make a choice?" My anxiety stems from a combination of indecisiveness, fear, and good old-fashioned nostalgia. I find that I would rather think back to freshman year than forward; that I am repulsed by the idea of assuming adult responsibilities; that I occasionally find myself shaking my fist silently as I traverse the Freshman Quad, jealous of the innocence of its inhabitants. As my suitemate paraphrased the illustrious Britney Spears last night, perhaps I'm simply no longer a boy, but not yet a man.
However, despite my reservations about stepping out into the "real world," I am admittedly excited about the possibilities. I may be terrified, and I may not be ready, but I'm confident that I will be when the time comes. I'll admit I was also nervous about going to college many moons ago. Looking forward to senior year, I see a landscape cluttered with standardized tests, applications, interviews and a great big whopper of a thesis. From here, it seems as if graduation couldn't be any more terrifying. However, by the time it comes, I think I, along with the go-getters and the slackers of the class of 2004, will be ready for it.
So, in conclusion, don't rush your time here looking forward to the future. It may be corny and it may be overstated, but Amherst really isn't a transitory place between high school and life: it's a special place all to itself. These four years go by quickly enough, so remember to take the time to slow it down and enjoy your surroundings. Do all the dorky stuff they tell you to do at Orientation, in dorm meeting and on the Daily Jolt. And find some stuff out on your own. Most importantly, when winter comes (and it will), grin and bear it. Take Amherst for what it is, and don't rush planning for your future.
Somewhere down the line, we all get asked, "What're you gonna do with your life?" There's no better answer than to say we're going to enjoy it and worry about the future when the time comes.