College Expectations are Crippling

Iwould be lying to both myself and whoever is reading this if I declared myself a ‘normal’ college student. However, in order to avoid the too-popularindie-not-like-other-girls trope, I will simply say I do not ‘do’ college normally. And while each bright star at Davidson shines in their own way— from stem queens to our Classical Language tyrants— I differ from each in a fundamental way.

Because I am not a college student.

I am simply in college.

Now, I admit, I am a freshly realized non-college student. My first semester as a self-decided college student I bumbled about to and fro the suggested classes, haphazardly attended seminars I thought might be important and occasionally made an appearance at F.

I was miserable.

The friends I met seemed mostly situational (I’m desperate for connection and you are too? perfect!), the essays I readand then later the ones I wrote- seemed abstracted from my own reality, and I grasped desperately to hold onto my past self as I was dished out my new ‘collegestudent’ identity.

As I flapped helplessly to find a lifebuoy of personhood, I also chose to submerge myself in the crafts of myself.

My bread baking, my knitting, my painting.

In my life, these crafts have been a hallmark of myself, my growth, and my passions. They have been both a means of connection with others- companionship, as my Latin 201 class has taught me, comes directly from Latin roots meaning “with bread”- but also myself.

Though as I choose to make fresh jam and sourdough instead of going to commons, knit my mom a sweater instead of going to KSIG, and paint the Ada Jenkins Mural instead of attending office hours, I found myself further alienated.

Why did none of my friends enjoy baking at dawn? Why was bringing your knitting to parties a quick way to become a fun ‘commodity’? Why was I being referred to as BREAD GIRL all the time?

My questions were all answered, however, by a situational acquaintance:

“We are college students, belle. You don’t do that in college.”

It was simple.

I was not a college student.

And that’s when I started to love being in college.

I love college! I love college! I love college!

My biggest worry is the physics project I have to create, the heaviest thing on my mind is the collection of greek ‘μι’ verbs I must memorize, and the only isolation I ever feel is self-made.

Because here, in this strange learning bubble, I am surrounded by people excited, people in action, and people who are also ‘in college.’

If you have any questions, please direct them toward rotowell@ davidson.edu.

We are all not the same. We are all not ‘just college students.’

Now that I have realized ‘the college experience’ is nothing but a Pinterest board of aesthetics rather than a set syllabus of identity, I have been able to find meaning in the abstraction, purpose in the situationality of every interaction, and opportunities in the brochures.

Though at first my frantic baking in Belk kitchen may have been an intense form of stress relief, I was recently awarded the Try it Fund grant to start my own sourdough business.

Though I signed up for classes with a complete lack of focus, I am enjoying ripping down the stereotypes and assumptions I had created for each genre of study. Yes, Stem is hard but impossible? Sunday AT exists for a reason. Yes, while the whimsical art major cliche stands powerfully, it often hides a meticulously kept creative habit. And yes, classes should take my time but not all of it.

As a college student, I was plagued with questions of my major, of my summer plans, and of creating a cohesive narrative to get me from point a (freshman with loose, but still preprofessional plan) to point b (senior with plans for higher education, then a professional career). Now, in college, I dabble in ancient languages in physics. I go to lectures on a whim and banter with professors about knitting patterns. Last year, as I maxed out my common app, I imagined the destination of ‘college’ in abstract terms and feelings.

Today, still am closer understanding

‘college’ is or ‘what’ however, I am deeply enjoying being on the journey.

And finally, as a shoddy college student, I was, sadly, also a subpar college friend. I found myself solely relying on my situation to find my ‘fated lifelong college friends.’ I felt trapped by awkwardness, I felt angry by my isolation, and then further ousted by my hobbies.

It was only upon stepping out of the confines of my own identity, my own direct situation, that I was able to see people as more than fellow students but as individuals also battling the college experience. I was able to see individuals outside of college students- the workers on main street and the old ladies at the farmers market- to become a part of my experience.

So yes, to finish out my indulgent monologue, I am not a college student. I was never a college student. My knees hurt from jumping to meet expectations I never enjoyed and my shoulders ached in hunching from the weight of the expected. I like to crochet at parties. I enjoy baking rather than joining an E-board. I am choosing to go to a bread festival rather than Frolics.

But I do not say this to claim I am different, or alternative, or misunderstood, or ‘not like everyone else’ I am simply ‘in college.’