Well here we go again. The line at the bookstore is a mile long, the registrars are in overdrive mode, and the gym is packed to the brim like losing weight is going out of style. There's a brand new gibbering hoard who think that frat parties are the greatest invention since sliced bread. I still have no frickin' degree. And yesterday some kid asked me how to get to Garland (it's the square looking one with the tall windows next to Levering).
Either I'm in some trippy kind of time warp, or another year really has gone by. So after thinking about it a bit more, I realize that if I were in a time warp, I'd still be 18, I wouldn't be nearly this jaded, and I definitely would not be seeing this much hair in the sink every morning. This leaves but one possibility: annus novus.
A new year. By now you've no doubt bought all your new supplies; your day planner is already filled, organized and color coded; the wardrobe has been updated; and this is really gonna be the year you go to the gym three times a week. Right? But, when you take a step back, a new year is quite a daunting prospect. Think about all the work that's going to go into the next few months. Life becomes this busy, stressful mess of struggling to maximize priorities, to be at 10 places at once, and to come out of it all with straight As and in one piece. Yet somehow, during the short time - or long time for some of us, Ahem - we're here. We live for it. It drives us.
Why? We do it to be successful, right? But what does that even mean and does it have anything to do with happiness? Can the two exist in the same universe? The papers, the projects, the caffeine- or non-caffeine-induced all-nighters - why do we do it? What forces propagated this frenzied, ??ber-success-oriented culture and why do we sustain it? Who's more to blame, Daniel Colt Gilman for designing this place, Academic Advising for constantly making us feel inadequate or is it us, for becoming so caught up in all of it?
Maybe this doesn't compute for some of you. Maybe you have no reason or desire to question it. Maybe things just work for you as they are; challenging the status quo seems fruitless. It's like my therapist always says, "If it ain't broke, don't fix it."
But for the rest of us, I think these questions resonate. I also think that they're difficult and complex, and as such, are often prone to being pushed under the rug and ignored. We don't have time to question things here. We have reading and problem sets to do. But maybe we should. I think they matter deserve answers. I have watched, much to my own chagrin and building sense of inadequacy, many years of successful kids go through this place and graduate. And sometimes, when they get out, they have no idea what to do next. These are kids who were hugely successful here at Hopkins, great grades, tons of extra-curriculars, research, grants, everything. They look back and wonder about this whole concept of success here and if it means anything. It's a painful process, and just further emphasizes the need to put things into the proper perspective sooner rather than later.
Now, unfortunately, and despite my advancing years, I don't have those answers to dole out. I wish I did, but I'm still searching for them myself. But, I think that maybe over the course of this, my sixth and final year at JHU*, a real exploration of this place might just provide some light on the truth of what underlies this culture. That, at least, is my goal for this year and this column. And maybe you'd like to stop by this page every once in a while to join me in that goal. 'Cause who knows, maybe we'll learn something together.
[ *OK, before you start judging me ... I have my excuses. I started off as a BME. I needed to take those two years off. I just decided for some inexplicable set of reasons to spend them here. ]
