"Are you excited to graduate?"
"Well, no. Not really. Why would I be?"
"Why would I be?" is always my response. As the weeks of mycollege time begin to wane, that is the question that I inevitablyreceive from family, friends, and sadly enough, fellow seniors.With only three columns left in thisone-of-many-great-things-that-I'm-privileged-to-do-as-a-college-studentcolumn gig, I hope that this week isn't too soon to talk about howgreat college is, and why I'm in no rush to get out.
I'll save my last two columns for what I'm not lookingforward to in the real world, but for now, I think it's safe tolook back on why I can't imagine why anyone would ever want toleave college.
First of all, and seemingly most obviously, we are surrounded by5,000 ready, willing, and generally nice people who may want to beour friends! With the exception of college, can you think of aplace where the whole community is supposed to know each other andwear the same sweatshirt? I mean, it's true: we all avoid eyecontact with these supposed friends if we don't actually knowthem, but if you were hanging out in the Baltimore Inner Harborone day and saw a kid wearing the ol' Brown and Blue, you'dcertainly go and say "hi." Come to think of it, it's amazing thatwe all don't have more friends here. We're all certainlydoing the same things. Do you really think that yourhand-picked friends are much cooler than the kids sitting in theother corner of Dewick? Probably not. Who you hang out withis the result of a fate we all accepted: "Random roommateassignment freshman year." Hate to break it to you.
Despite the leaking cynicism up there, it really is a beautifulthing that we're surrounded by generally well-meaning people. Andin our beautiful college bubble, we're also surrounded by endlesssupport systems. Health Services, the gym, the TUPD, dining halls,computer labs ... the list could go on. It's almost like a boardgame: "You're hungry, go stuff your face at Hotung. Five points.""You're feeling sick, go visit Health Services. One pregnancytest." "You need to do work, go to the library. Zero work done."For every need that comes up, Tufts gives us a place where we cango. Sadly enough, I fear that we will need to find our ownresources once we leave this padded womb.
Our little gated community also allows us to make our ownschedules. Try telling your boss in a few years that you won't beworking any morning hours. Good luck. But these days, just a fewclicks of the mouse on registration day ensure that life of thecollege student can begin at 10:25. Or 11:50. Or, more likely,1:30. You have to wonder where those first hours go. My guesseswould be sleep, Sportscenter, or Fantasy Baseball. Of course ifyou're a girl, I don't know anything about your species, and so Ihave no idea what you may be doing before class. You can fill me inany time.
And not only can we live an alarm-clock free life by rolling outof bed at 11:00 every day, we can also enjoy endless choices ofactivities that happen late at night. Speakers about foreigncrises, general interest meetings with free pizza, and debatesabout things we don't care about all are going on every night ofthe week. And it's all right there on that brain-orgasm we know astuftslife.com. I suspect there won't be a ZachsRealLife.com nextyear where I can just see all my options for the day. All there ...color-coded for my pleasure ... the many activities that I look atand say, "that would be cool to go to. Oh well."
College is just an amazing privilege. An expensive one at that-- but it's four years of calzone-eating, Frisbee-throwing,brain-enriching fun. You may not know it, but if you search for it,Tufts will let you talk on the radio, write whatever you want inthe newspaper, and even talk for an hour at a time to strangersvisiting campus. No one even tells you what to say! It'samazing! If you haven't been doing enough things that are goingto make you miss college, then get out there. Because before youturn around, the alarm clock will be buzzing at 7 a.m., and Ipromise that it won't be so that you can run to a half-creditpilates course that your parents paid for. So sleep in tomorrow.There's no rush.
Zach Geller is a senior majoring in psychology. He can bereached at geller@tuftsdaily.com.
