SEAN SPEAKS!
5.30.09
Hello, faithful readers! Did you ever think you’d be hearing from me, the ever-talked-about, never-heard-from son? It’s not something I’d normally think of doing, but my mother asked if, perhaps for this penultimate blog entry, I’d like to write something — the year in older, wiser retrospect, if you will; this could include anything from academics to friends, the largest fluxes in personality to the smallest qualms about the cafeteria food.
Before I begin, I’ll admit that it feels a bit strange to be narrating my two, huge semesters of college to people who — albeit through different eyes — have already heard the tale. Like any tale, it has its ups and downs, and though my mother has lionized me at times and vilified me at others, I assure you that any act you’ve read about seemed completely quotidian. I took the course of action most natural to me at any given moment (particularly in college, where you have no energy for anything other than the instinctive), and I have no other defense of my injurious deeds nor any other motive behind my numinous ones.
For my part, I hold the “college experience” in mixed regard. I am a consummate introvert, which means that I run a continual risk of retreating into academic asceticism, something not generally accepted by the college populace. When a group of friends threw a party, for example, I’d often find an excuse to evade it and spend a few hours in a practice room with my music — but in eschewing the larger social scene, I discovered a web of interpersonal connections even more precious to me. Many “friends” that I’d had in high school became, legitimately, best friends, and I found many more kindred spirits not through rampant, indiscriminate socialization but through quiet, cultivated work.
I did not attend sports events; I cannot pretend to have much school spirit (though perhaps this comes from being a Madisonian for most of my life); I realize now that I studied too much and enjoyed too little; I involved myself in few extracurricular activities; I permanently destroyed my sleep cycles — the list of mistakes I made goes on and on.
In spite of all this, college remains one of the things in life that is guaranteed to change it irrevocably: your intellect blossoms, fueled by the manifold viewpoints and theories inundating your consciousness; you learn to cope with every type of person imaginable, for better or for worse; deadlines, constant distractions, and all the proffered hedonisms that accompany total freedom test the limits of your willpower and time management, etc., etc.
I flatter myself that I faced most of these adversities calmly and assiduously, considering how difficult I found my freshman year. I took good care of my body, becoming much more fit during my two semesters; I got all As or ABs in coursework; my voice matured and flourished; I discovered new talents by the score; a thousand and one things worked for me this year. Since I have relatively little else to say, I’d like to offer a list of suggestions for incoming college freshmen. Hopefully you’ll find this useful.
• Get involved with something — anything. If you like it, you’ll have already accomplished the hard part — seeking out the group and joining it. If you don’t like it, you at least know what that momentum feels like, and you’ll be more likely to join another activity, avoiding slipping back into anonymity.
• Be kind and compassionate to your roommate. Define for yourself what matters enough in the room to fight for and what simply can’t muster that sort of significance. Remember: roommates, too, have their own quirks and preferences that you are quite possibly ruining (just as they are reciprocating).
• Take good care of your body. You need plenty of exercise. You need to eat healthfully. You need sleep, and in as large of quantities as you can obtain it. That’s not a suggestion; that’s an order.
• Avoid substance abuse. Really. If you’re tempted to go bonkers, consider this: what tempts you? Is it the vomiting? The hangover? The social aspect? Peer pressure? Are you rebelling against your parents? Experimenting? Chances are good that if you confess the real reason to yourself, it’ll seem kind of stupid. And after all, who wants to be stupid?
• Take a variety of classes. That might sound hypocritical, coming from a music major who’s forced to take nearly entirely music courses, but it’s true nonetheless. Even if you feel certain that you want a degree in biology, try as much as you can get your hands on. Who knows? Maybe game theory, 14th-century French poetry, kinesiology, or the history of the Balkans will fascinate you much more.
• Find a place to study that is all your own. I chose the Kohler Art Library on the ground floor of the Chazen Art Museum, largely because it’s not well known, and it has an incredible view. Similarly, make sure you have a place to study ready for when you wouldn’t mind getting absorbed by something else; even procrastination has its place in college, and lots of the best adventures start in libraries.
• Avoid the internet like the plague. It seems innocuous enough as a high school student, sure, but trust me — it will kill you in college if you allow it to.
• Don’t stress about friends. They’ll come, and now, more than at any other time in your life, they’ll be people who identify most with the person you represent yourself as. Whom should you represent yourself as? You. Nothing more, nothing less. People will love you for who you are — but only if you let them see who that is. (Or, they won’t love you, but college affords you enough space to simply avoid these people.)
• You cannot go back to high school, no matter how much you may wish for it. You will both want to and not want to, but the fact remains that once you make the transition to college, no amount of reactionary thinking will change the fact that you grew up while seniors haven’t (quite yet, that is).
• Remember: the things you do are your priorities. Don’t delude yourself that the things you say you do are priorities, nor the things you wish you did, nor the things you like but “lack time for.” Acknowledge, accept, embrace.
• This one is for parents: tell your kids as swiftly as you can about any tragedies or family crises that may occur. As much as they pride themselves on being “independent units,” they’ll feel completely betrayed if you keep them out of the loop on something that important. As for the medium in which you should break the bad news to them, a telephone message is probably best; that way, they can mull the news over at their own leisure and give you a considerate reaction later.
• Remain in contact with your family. It’s tough, it takes time (like anything worth having), but your family stays with you always, whereas that English essay due Friday has a finite term of existence.
• Lastly, upset your own routine as often as you dare. We all create our little routines, so make it a routine to break the routine. Talk to strangers, comment out loud about weird occurrences in public, try new foods, do unpredictable things. Choosing the safest option is nothing but stagnation by tiny, tiny increments.
Thanks for all of your anonymous mental support this year. I truly hope that the younger generation can read both this and my mother’s many contributions and learn something (a futile goal, but ah!, a worthy one). Remember above all: “With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.”
Before I begin, I’ll admit that it feels a bit strange to be narrating my two, huge semesters of college to people who — albeit through different eyes — have already heard the tale. Like any tale, it has its ups and downs, and though my mother has lionized me at times and vilified me at others, I assure you that any act you’ve read about seemed completely quotidian. I took the course of action most natural to me at any given moment (particularly in college, where you have no energy for anything other than the instinctive), and I have no other defense of my injurious deeds nor any other motive behind my numinous ones.
For my part, I hold the “college experience” in mixed regard. I am a consummate introvert, which means that I run a continual risk of retreating into academic asceticism, something not generally accepted by the college populace. When a group of friends threw a party, for example, I’d often find an excuse to evade it and spend a few hours in a practice room with my music — but in eschewing the larger social scene, I discovered a web of interpersonal connections even more precious to me. Many “friends” that I’d had in high school became, legitimately, best friends, and I found many more kindred spirits not through rampant, indiscriminate socialization but through quiet, cultivated work.
I did not attend sports events; I cannot pretend to have much school spirit (though perhaps this comes from being a Madisonian for most of my life); I realize now that I studied too much and enjoyed too little; I involved myself in few extracurricular activities; I permanently destroyed my sleep cycles — the list of mistakes I made goes on and on.
In spite of all this, college remains one of the things in life that is guaranteed to change it irrevocably: your intellect blossoms, fueled by the manifold viewpoints and theories inundating your consciousness; you learn to cope with every type of person imaginable, for better or for worse; deadlines, constant distractions, and all the proffered hedonisms that accompany total freedom test the limits of your willpower and time management, etc., etc.
I flatter myself that I faced most of these adversities calmly and assiduously, considering how difficult I found my freshman year. I took good care of my body, becoming much more fit during my two semesters; I got all As or ABs in coursework; my voice matured and flourished; I discovered new talents by the score; a thousand and one things worked for me this year. Since I have relatively little else to say, I’d like to offer a list of suggestions for incoming college freshmen. Hopefully you’ll find this useful.
• Get involved with something — anything. If you like it, you’ll have already accomplished the hard part — seeking out the group and joining it. If you don’t like it, you at least know what that momentum feels like, and you’ll be more likely to join another activity, avoiding slipping back into anonymity.
• Be kind and compassionate to your roommate. Define for yourself what matters enough in the room to fight for and what simply can’t muster that sort of significance. Remember: roommates, too, have their own quirks and preferences that you are quite possibly ruining (just as they are reciprocating).
• Take good care of your body. You need plenty of exercise. You need to eat healthfully. You need sleep, and in as large of quantities as you can obtain it. That’s not a suggestion; that’s an order.
• Avoid substance abuse. Really. If you’re tempted to go bonkers, consider this: what tempts you? Is it the vomiting? The hangover? The social aspect? Peer pressure? Are you rebelling against your parents? Experimenting? Chances are good that if you confess the real reason to yourself, it’ll seem kind of stupid. And after all, who wants to be stupid?
• Take a variety of classes. That might sound hypocritical, coming from a music major who’s forced to take nearly entirely music courses, but it’s true nonetheless. Even if you feel certain that you want a degree in biology, try as much as you can get your hands on. Who knows? Maybe game theory, 14th-century French poetry, kinesiology, or the history of the Balkans will fascinate you much more.
• Find a place to study that is all your own. I chose the Kohler Art Library on the ground floor of the Chazen Art Museum, largely because it’s not well known, and it has an incredible view. Similarly, make sure you have a place to study ready for when you wouldn’t mind getting absorbed by something else; even procrastination has its place in college, and lots of the best adventures start in libraries.
• Avoid the internet like the plague. It seems innocuous enough as a high school student, sure, but trust me — it will kill you in college if you allow it to.
• Don’t stress about friends. They’ll come, and now, more than at any other time in your life, they’ll be people who identify most with the person you represent yourself as. Whom should you represent yourself as? You. Nothing more, nothing less. People will love you for who you are — but only if you let them see who that is. (Or, they won’t love you, but college affords you enough space to simply avoid these people.)
• You cannot go back to high school, no matter how much you may wish for it. You will both want to and not want to, but the fact remains that once you make the transition to college, no amount of reactionary thinking will change the fact that you grew up while seniors haven’t (quite yet, that is).
• Remember: the things you do are your priorities. Don’t delude yourself that the things you say you do are priorities, nor the things you wish you did, nor the things you like but “lack time for.” Acknowledge, accept, embrace.
• This one is for parents: tell your kids as swiftly as you can about any tragedies or family crises that may occur. As much as they pride themselves on being “independent units,” they’ll feel completely betrayed if you keep them out of the loop on something that important. As for the medium in which you should break the bad news to them, a telephone message is probably best; that way, they can mull the news over at their own leisure and give you a considerate reaction later.
• Remain in contact with your family. It’s tough, it takes time (like anything worth having), but your family stays with you always, whereas that English essay due Friday has a finite term of existence.
• Lastly, upset your own routine as often as you dare. We all create our little routines, so make it a routine to break the routine. Talk to strangers, comment out loud about weird occurrences in public, try new foods, do unpredictable things. Choosing the safest option is nothing but stagnation by tiny, tiny increments.
Thanks for all of your anonymous mental support this year. I truly hope that the younger generation can read both this and my mother’s many contributions and learn something (a futile goal, but ah!, a worthy one). Remember above all: “With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.”
