Tag Archive for ‘college’ at Students 2.0

Tag Archive for 'college'

Should an 18 Year Old Really Know What They’re Going to Do For the Rest of Their Life?

Published by Stacy on April 4, 2008 in Learning. 33 Comments

A couple months ago, this exchange occurred between me and one of my parents’ co-workers, whom I shall call “J”.

“So, what do you want to do in college?” J asked me, right after we were introduced.

“Well,” I hedged, “I plan to sleep in, hang out with friends, and watch shadows elongate.” Pause. There was no flicker of recognition in J’s eyes; my sarcasm went over his head. “Um, basically—not much.”

J looked at me in askance. “I mean, what do you want to do?”

And this was when the College/What Are You Going To Do With the Rest Of Your Life? Interrogation started. Believe me, after going through this numerous times—it deserves its All Caps status. (My most sincere apologies to Strunk Jr and White, may you guys R.I.P. and not, you know, haunt me from the grave or anything.)

There’s something about one’s last two years of high school that dictates that any conversation you have with an adult, may it be your relatives or a near-perfect stranger in the supermarket, has to revolve around college. Once they know that you’re a senior or a junior in high school, the interrogation begins.

It’s a rite of passage.

It’s also a nuisance.

By November, I’ve mastered the art of listing all my ten colleges in one breath in order of preference. From Bryn Mawr and NYU to the University of Michigan at Ann Arbor.*

Which is not to say that I haven’t been guilty of using college as a convenient conversation starter because “So, how about ‘em Yankees?” is too overdone and cliché. Even so, this doesn’t make it any less annoying to 16-18 year olds everywhere.

“I’ll probably major in Anthropology and maybe minor in East Asian Studies–Japanese or Chinese.”

“Ah, Anthropology, huh? Like Indiana Jones!”

“… Uh, no.”

For most, this also involves a lot of nodding and glazed expressions when I try to explain the difference between Anthropology and Archeology. Occasionally, someone will ask what I will do career-wise, and I’ve learned by now that there’s really no good way to say “not a clue” without sounding like an idiot.

Because I honestly don’t know what I want to do for the rest of my life after college and grad school.

I envy my friends who know exactly what they want to do, because I still haven’t got the slightest idea. My plan is to take a lot of different classes in college and pretty much wing it, for lack of a better word. I’ll figure out where I want to go from there. Currently, I plan to major in Anthropology and minor in East Asian Languages (Mandarin Chinese). What I end up doing after college? No idea—even if I stick with Anthropology and Chinese for the next four years. I’m a fickle person and I’m interested in many things—creative writing, political science, international relations, history, languages, etc. The sky’s the limit.

It still amazes me though, how as students we’re expected to know what we want to do with the rest of our lives. Every time someone asks, I always have to smother a mad giggle—I’m so indecisive that it takes me fifteen minutes to decide what flavor of ice cream I want from Ben & Jerry’s—and they want me to tell them what I’ve decided to do for the rest of my life? It’s laughable. I can’t pretend I know what I want to do when most of my college friends have changed majors at least once during their time in Academia Land and knowing that there is a reason behind why many adults go back to school so they can change careers.

Maybe it’s a generational thing: in the past, there weren’t as many options for high school graduates but with more and more students going to college, there’s more of a disconnection. Yet there’s still the expectation from adults for us to know what we’re going to do with our lives by th time we’re 16-18.

For students who know exactly what their future profession is and are dead-set on pursuing their dreams, I want to say that envy them more than words can say.

However, for students like me who are still trying to figure things out, I wonder if this expectation will ever become less of an issue and burden as more students choose to pursue education beyond high school.

*I didn’t end up applying to all those colleges. After a certain point, all the paperwork just made me want to hide under my desk for all of eternity. As of March 21st 2007, however, I’m now a Bryn Mawryter so all’s well that ends well (theoretically-speaking).

Photo by Franco Folini on Flickr

Average Just Doesn’t Cut it Anymore

Published by Stacy on January 12, 2008 in Learning. 36 Comments

To a perfect stranger, I am an overachiever.

I’m taking three AP classes (after dropping AP Stats because math and I are not a good combination) and two semester electives as my senior course-load. I’m president of my school’s Asian-American Club. I am also involved in my creative writing’s class literary magazine, National Honor Society, AP Student Tutoring, Link Crew, and African-Latino Club. I volunteer at the library on Sundays, I sang in the school chorus from 6th grade to 11th, and I played piano like every Asian kid in the U.S. (the ones who weren’t already saddled with violin).

Through the eyes of my parents, I’m the epitome of an ABC failure. I don’t practice piano anymore, I don’t play a sport (trust me—I’m doing it for the team, I cannot walk in a straight line without tripping), and I don’t have a 4.0 GPA.

Or maybe I should rephrase my first statement. To the perfect adult stranger—one who might not be up to date with today’s ever-inflating standards of students—I may seem like an overachiever when in fact, I’m not.

Not compared to my friends and classmates.

Sit at my lunch table and you’ll find a talented mix of students from all different kinds of backgrounds and ethnicities: two National Merit Semifinalists, one secretary of the National Honor Society, three all-state musicians, two star leads in our previous school productions, an editor of the school newspaper as well as director of a local amateur teenage-run theater group, and a partridge in a freaking pear tree.

Everyone at my table is taking three AP classes, if not more. Almost all participate in Link Crew or National Honor Society.

(Disclaimer: this might be a biased/limited overview since I’m basing this on personal experience and I take mostly honors/AP classes. Additionally, a number of the students in my classes are children of Cornell or Ithaca College professors/staff.)

The truth is that being an average student doesn’t really cut it anymore. It used to be that if you get A’s and B’s, you can probably get into a decent school. Or that if you’re valedictorian, you can pretty much write yourself a ticket to any school.

Nowadays, it’s not enough just to get good grades. You have to play an instrument and two sports, volunteer, get straight A’s, attain a 1850+ SAT score, and hold some office in student council or club to even be considered many colleges—whether college admission officers would like to admit it or not. With more and more students applying to college each year, you have Cornell turning away 3 out of 4 valedictorians.

With the rise of their increasing expectations, there will also be the rise of students who will try to meet them. Just from a casual Google search of “Student overachievers” will result in a number of articles about the rise of overachieving students—students who feel like they need to be “well-rounded” in order to get accepted to a good college in order to be successful in life, as Lindsea has also covered in her post “One Sweet Dream”.

While being ambitious and responsible is great, I can’t help but feel bad for students like the ones depicted in Alexandra Robbin’s The Overachievers: The Secret Lives of Driven Kids. Thankfully, while my school is pretty competitive for a public school, it’s nowhere near as insane.

Although everyone I know is applying to at least one or two Ivy or Public Ivy league schools, many are also submitting applications to state colleges. Community colleges, however, are still looked down upon—just the mention of our local community college will be met with ridicule, even though it is one of the top community colleges in the country. We’re accustomed to high standards, although I sometimes wonder if we’re able to keep up with the ever increasing standards placed upon us by Above.

I’m currently happy and busy with all my extracurriculars. I participate in them because my friends are members and I sincerely enjoy those activities. I do them for myself, not because I’m trying to impress a Dean of Admissions. Too many of my peers join clubs (National Honor Society being a common culprit) only to have something to jot down on their college application.

Would you rather do something you enjoy or something that would impress others? Have you ever committed yourself to something simply to boost your resume?

Photo by Aaron Michael Brown on Flickr
Photo by Alexandra Lee on Flickr

One Sweet Dream

Published by Lindsea on December 17, 2007 in Learning. 33 Comments

Hello, I’m a 3.6 and 2100 on my SAT’s.

The further into my high school career I go, the more my face, name, and personality gets traded out for a couple of numbers. It seems as though modern high school is becoming less about personal growth through learning, and more about preparing your resume for Dream College.

Even before high school, college always seemed like it was the end of the road; it was something that was always on my mind, sometimes stressful, sometimes very exciting. In middle school, I made a video about where I wanted to be in four years. Looking back on it, I cringe. I quote my mock senior year statement:

Well, I am a high school senior now! I got a 4.0 unweighted, and I got a 1500 on my SATs. High school was great. There was a lot peer pressure to go to parties and have sex, but I tried to stay away from all that. I set the state record for the high jump, and have 8 varsity letters in 2 different sports, and I’ve acted in 3 plays. I’m the captain of the debate team, and I’m the editor for the school newspaper. I also got into Princeton, Stanford, Yale, and UCLA.

“Um, what?”, I think now. Who did I think I would become? Who is this person, and when do they have time to breathe? Did I think high school was like Gilmore Girls? Yes, actually, I did... but let’s keep that a secret.

Freshman year was this impossible dream attempting to be lived out, because I thought it was necessary for me to get into that Dream College. Unable to see outside myself, I had tunnel vision on my one goal of getting into Dream College. Learning was important to me, but secondary to the grade I got in the class. Obsessed with getting all A’s, I studied non-stop in the library and at home. I practiced for the notorious SAT, three years ahead of time.

My perspective has shifted since then. The closer I get to college, the more I see that college isn’t this big illustrious dream like it was in middle school and freshman year. It’s kind of like seeing a giant walking on the street and realizing later that it wasn’t that the giant was big, but rather that the street was small.

People (specifically those who are most influential in my life) tell me (good-heartedly, with the best of intentions) that in order to get far in life x, y, and z need to happen, letting x=good grades/good resume, y=prestigious college, and z=good (read: well-paying) job. Though it may be partially true, is that the kind of limiting dream that students should have? Where is the room for growth, experimentation, living? Why does society set these parameters for success?

The path of x, y, and z has been stomped clean of passion, of adventure.

This is something that has been so rigorously conditioned in students: fear of the unusual. This is because the unusual is sometimes regarded as “failing,” at least at the time. For 13 years we go to school, learn curriculum, take tests, read books, etc., all within the context of x, y, and z. Each year we are taught about facts and figures, and tested on them—with the importance being placed on the good score. We get good grades, graduate from elementary, then middle, and finally high school. Mistakes are counter-intuitive to students growing up in the school system, because mistakes are usually connected to the Big Red Pen of Death (bad grades).

What I’ve painfully learned through my own mistakes: it’s easy to live the expected and conventional. It’s when you live the unexpected that you start having fun with your life.

Left with a fresh canvas and a complete set of crayons, I plan to take my own future in my hands, all the while retaining who I am—not my numeric representation.

But what do the rest of you plan to do?

Original artwork by Lindsea

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