Before I came to Hopkins, my world was one of gilded excess. Flaky silver high school signs, faded yellow restaurants always boasting about having the “most,” old cars with big logos and peeling paint. Coming from a low-income, majority immigrant area meant I was always surrounded by excess. There was an obsession with collection and preservation – take, for example, how I’ve never seen the back wall of my grandma’s garage, despite working away at the pile for 10 summers.
I worry that new Hopkins students overfill their garages, too, overly preoccupied with the idea of “never enough.”
I would never blame the freshmen (a year of experience does not amount to much in wisdom). They are promised fanciful positions and opportunities. And for how hard they work, rightfully so! But being overwhelmed with jobs, extracurriculars, internships, research, any pursuit they could dream of, anything new they could try – I think that is a great advantage for those who had more growing up, compared to those who have less. It is advantageous to grow up having more options, to be able to choose.
I say this specifically for people who come from environments like mine: the definition of success was joining everything that my under-resourced high school allowed me to do. We did not ask each other about what organizations we thought were important, only the number. We grew up hoarding belongings; it only made sense to hoard our opportunities, too. I’ve seen too many students step into the waters of Hopkins and immediately start to drown. Not because they’re overwhelmed, but because they choose to be overwhelmed. Perhaps they do not know how to choose, how to commit or how to quit the haphazard things they somewhat love. And in exchange, they lose the depth in what they love the most, what is actually most important to them.
This is not meant to discourage anyone, at any point, from trying new things. I’ve grown the most through my discovered love for a cappella, something that I would’ve never dreamt of joining during high school. But there is a difference between having a taste and deciding to swallow the plate. Something that surprised me about Hopkins was the depth of the organizations and commitments that someone could join. It was quite easy to “accidentally” fall into an officer position for the year, into multiple six to eight hour commitments during the first month of school. For those who grew up with choice, it might be easier to distinguish one’s wants and needs, what someone could realistically commit to and accomplish. But I argue that for those who see every opportunity at Hopkins as a diamond of equal size, the choice is either too paralyzing or too heavy to cash into the bank. There is no doubt that every student at Hopkins could do absolutely amazing, incredible things. I think the problem will always be the time. Not that we don’t have enough, but many of us would choose to fill every overlapping gap in that schedule – the time during which we are meant to live.
Between all of the responsibilities and the preparations for jobs and graduate school, there has to be time to start anew. To be true to ourselves. It took me the entirety of freshman year to realize that I don’t have to have it all. I don’t have to do it all. Sticking with a few clubs, with a few meaningful things, might just be enough. And it helps the gold shine – the one under the leaf and the plaster, the stickers and the scraps. I remember the last conversation I had before I flew to Hopkins this year was in Joshua Tree, sending off one of my friends to their first year in college. And the greatest message was this: “The hardest, most impressive thing someone can do isn’t necessarily what’s meant for them.”
So slow down. Decide what you want to do, explore different options, create a path of your own. You don’t have to see it all now. Take it easy, Blue Jays. You’ll accomplish everything you want to and more, I promise.
Andrew Huynh is a sophomore from Garden Grove, Calif. majoring in Neuroscience. His column, “Ad Astra,” captures his reflections on modern life and Hopkins as he navigates his transition into adulthood.
