Who callin’ my phone? Is it the job/internship search? Is it the visa process? Is it the midterms coming up? Where the f--- the function?
Well here we are again. Midterm season. Let’s do some math together. This is my third year writing “A Jumbo’s Journey,” equating to just under five semesters. Given that each semester comes with a midterm season — some lasting months — this makes midterm piece number five. Wow, I am quickly losing content.
But in a way, I feel like midterm season is an integral part of the college experience. Or, I guess, all eight midterm seasons for a college student. (One semester equals one midterm season — I’m using this as practice for my upcoming CS midterm.) Going into each new semester, I can confidently say that there will be a time a few months later where I reside inside Tisch’s Hirsh Reading Room, live off of disturbingly-neon energy drinks and have about four crashouts (that is my current average). I also know I am not the only one who can say this.
In an act of both procrastination and ‘preparation,’ I went back and re-read one of my first publications about midterms here at Tufts titled, “Born to dilly-dally, forced to lock in.” Firstly, what an awful read. I have no idea how anyone could have read and enjoyed my first-year writing. My circular reasoning and attempt at being philosophical did not hit me where my first-year self intended to. Secondly, it was clear that I have changed.
Of course I have changed in many ways. I like to think that I have grown physically and have become more mature and knowledgeable about all facets of life. For example, my first-year self wrote about how work and play are intertwined in college. What a revelation! My sophomore spring midterm edition highlighted how Tufts is ‘not a typical university.’ Wow! Such unique and life changing points my underclassmen self made! (My hatred for underclassmen has gotten so bad, I’ve started hating my own underclassman self.)
But, to be fair (and I hate to say this), I don’t think I’ve changed that much. At the end of the day, midterms still hit the same. I still find myself scrolling on my phone for only “five minutes” (which obviously turns into 30). I still spend too much money on coffee and other forms of caffeine. I still tell myself that this is the semester I will plan ahead. Spoiler alert — it wasn’t this semester. It never is. But maybe that’s the point.
Midterms don’t get easier, we just get better at knowing we’ll make it through. It’s that quiet, inductive belief: If we’ve done it once, we can do it again. (Sorry in advance to you poor freshies. You guys got this!)
Somewhere between those sleepless nights, the problem sets and the chaos of Tisch, we’ve built a rhythm. We’ve done this before; we can do it again. And even when the world feels like it is collapsing and a fifth crashout is impending, we know it won’t last forever. Maybe that’s what growth actually looks like: not having it all figured out, but trusting in ourselves that we’ve survived enough midterms to survive one more.
Maybe the real lesson, buried under all those notes, is this: Midterms aren’t just another round of exams, but rather a checkpoint and proof that we have grown and adapted. In my first year, I did not know what was going on. Now, I still don’t know what’s going on, but I’m confident in myself that I can make it through today because I made it through yesterday.
Growth doesn’t always look like getting better grades or sleeping more (which would be very nice). Sometimes, growth is just learning how to trust yourself through the chaos — how to ride the waves instead of fighting them.
So, when my phone starts ringing again, whether it’s midterms, internships or just life, maybe I’ll actually pick it up. Not because I’ll be ready, but because I’ve survived every ring so far.
Ringingly,
Ben Rachel
