By now, I'm sure all of you are aware of the large numbers of prospective students and their parents touring our humble campus. My bicycle was in hibernation during the winter and for some reason it refuses to work properly -- thus I find myself walking down to the Hopkins Center to check my Hinman Box instead of just hopping on my bicycle and, well, cycling down there. And, thus, I've been traversing down Mass Row and running into numerous motley and disorganized groups, often commandeered by an enthusiastic Dartmouth student tour guide who is forced to constantly walk backwards and simultaneously spew out 101 interesting facts about Dartmouth. Even when eating lunch at the Hop, one can't escape these ubiquitous mobs. (I heard one group snicker in response to a tour guide's comment that "This is the Hop, the only place on campus where one can get half a grapefruit" -- but I digress.)
And every time these large groups passed me, some not even 10 meters away from each other, I always heard excited comments and low murmuring. Who wouldn't feel a rush? Coming to college straight out of high school, touring our beautiful campus, seeing -- quickly, I might add -- what downtown Main Street has to offer and getting a feel of what Dartmouth students love about Hanover it's all an experience in itself. The energy emanating from such groups was refreshing and certainly made me think about the times when I was choosing between the schools that I had been accepted into.
And now, even the '05s are starting to acquire the telltale signs of age. We have to submit our D-Plans soon and I find myself running around, frantically trying to sort out transfer term information as well as possible internships with NGOs that I might want to do at some point in my college life. Recently, we were given the "Prospectus" in our Hinman Boxes with information on courses for the next two years, ostensibly to help us with the formulation of our D-Plans. As for me, I've been going through the ORC for what must seem like the umpteenth time, trying to work out whether my current course load satisfies all my distributive requirements. I've even opened up for the first time Dartmouth's book on off-campus programs.
I guess this must really sound trivial; for my older friends on campus, it's so much more -- it's about finding long-term jobs, going down to New York for that possible job interview with some investment banking firm, deciding whether one wants to work in non-profit organizations and so on. And then, there's always the matter of successfully sorting out the possible ways to fund graduate school and the "small" matter of actually being successful in ones' application in the first place. Oh, and that's assuming the GRE goes well, and that's not even a given even after hours of hunching over a book in the Baker Tower room trying out inane multiple choice problems you get the idea.
It all seems so far away, the times when we were free of responsibilities. The time I spent as a cadet in the military even reminds me of those days -- it was tough, but at least I didn't have such weighty concerns vis--vis the future on my mind. Even Dartmouth's orientation (which seemed to last forever) was similar; no classes and supposedly "mandatory" sessions left us with the personal time to ponder the little mysteries in our lives.
Recently, I was talking to a friend who is a senior in high school about his educational plans. It brought on a sense of dj vu. He was already worrying about college and the adjustments to life that he thought needed to be made in the United States. I told him to relax, take a deep breath and smell the roses while he could. At Dartmouth, I always welcome those lulls in a busy day when one can actually pause for a second, lost in lazy thought.
I'm not saying growing up, or embracing the sense of purpose that comes with the heightened sense of awareness and knowledge that is an inevitable part of human life, is bad or undesirable. I just wish, sometimes, for the days when I was totally free again, where the next hour was not measured in the amount of pages read but in the things that one thought and dreamt about.
