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What I thought of college students when I was 12
August 15, 2007
They do their hair, daily.
Why was I always picturing a dainty brunette in a white blouse and pencil skirt twirling her hair around a thick, round iron while waving around a hefty can of Aqua Net?
They are engaged by senior year.
Because that’s the next step, the only thing left to do in life.
They drink martinis in short, black dresses.
They lean over high tables discussing graduate school and trips to Paris. They are never tired.
They have cash.
Society showers them with impressive amounts of money as sincere congratulations for making it so far. “College graduate? How prestigious!”
They are immediately rewarded with meaningful careers.
Last day of school: You walk across campus in a new suit, holding a diploma. You reach an office with a banner over the door. “Congrats, Grads!” Inside, behind a giant mahogany desk, sits an enthusiastic old man dressed in Argyle. Upon seeing you, he reaches into his drawer of files and excitedly removes a paper with your name on it. At the top of the sheet, in a box, is the location of your new job, the one you worked for. You start Monday.
There’s always room.
English major? We have someone who wants to publish your novel, because you graduated college. Pre-med? Here’s your acceptance letter to medical school, because you graduated college. Art? The Met expects you tomorrow. We told them you graduated college.
Classes consist of an older, eccentric individual speaking passionately about his or her life’s work.
Everyone shows up. They listen with sparkling eyes and involved minds. They all get A’s for coming.
The other classes are (very) on location.
“I hope you’re all ready to explore the wonders of Shakespeare. Tomorrow, to accent our journey through Titus Andronicus, we leave for Italy!”
Backpacks are discarded.
Admittedly, I walked into my first class as a freshman with a black, leather computer bag. At a state college. Minutes later, it was tucked between my right leg and the wall, cowering among the faithful JanSport and Gap messenger bags.
The professors invite you to quaint, personal locations to discuss the things you couldn’t get enough of in class.
You drink tea.
August 15th, 2007 at 8:18 pm
Hilarious. If only…
August 15th, 2007 at 9:20 pm
I was raised by my grandmother, so for about 10 years of my life, I was surrounded by Aqua Net and lectures on marriage.
Other than that though, I didn’t think that it would be possible to get a college degree and not instantaneously have a job.
And here I am in sweats, jobless, rentless, struggling to pay off student loans and find something entry-level. Oh, how naive.
August 15th, 2007 at 9:22 pm
Lisa - Hm, I also grew up with my grandmother. I’m relating to you in every way.
August 15th, 2007 at 10:47 pm
True. To shatter the illusion further, I went to art school and STILL expected many of the above to hold true.
My, what a shock.
But if there was no prestige surrounding college, would any of us go? (Answer: Yes, because how else will you kill time between high school and your quarter-life crisis?)
August 16th, 2007 at 8:45 am
i think i believed a lot of those things until i was 18.
August 16th, 2007 at 8:36 pm
So SO true! Although I agree with Rachel. Most of these beliefs followed me past age 12.
August 16th, 2007 at 10:16 pm
It would be great if all of these things were true. It would make my upcoming senior year a lot less scary…
(Just discovered your blog, btw. Name also Rachael, though spelled differently, and I’m also a writer. The similarities were too great not to comment.)
August 17th, 2007 at 8:28 am
I actually never thought any of those things. College was pretty much what I expected of it, sadly. We did, however, drink a whole lot of tea, with other students, while complaining about professors. Oh, college.