I've been having a recurring nightmare of late, which I assume is not uncommon among first-year students at prestigious colleges like Dartmouth. In my dark dreams, I'm on a boat accelerating along a narrow channel lined with doors. Lighting is dim, cast only by the flickering glow of sconces, and eerie shadows dance along the water. It's like that bizarre scene in "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory" when Willy Wonka goes crazy, except that now it's society rowing the boat instead of the Oompa Loompas. I want to jump out, but we're going too fast, and everywhere voices warn me of the dangers in the water.
But then, as quickly as Kanye West can snatch an unsuspecting mic, the boat comes to rest in front of a rich mahogany door with impressive gold lettering that reads "Law School Admissions." I yell, but before I can escape, the door swings open and I'm thrown in as helpless as one of Dick Cheney's hunting partners.
Now don't get me wrong, I'm extraordinarily excited to be at Dartmouth. Already, after dancing the Salty Dog Rag on First-Year Trips, watching a cappella shows and President Kim's inauguration, lying on the Green with new friends and sinking my first cup, I know I couldn't have chosen a better place to spend the next four years. It's truly amazing to be here.
I remember, in kindergarten, choking back tears when a fourth grader nodded at his stack of homework and said, "Enjoy life while you can, Josh. You'll understand once you're ten."
Today, like in kindergarten, we're at a critical juncture in our lives. I try to tell myself not to forget the anticipation I feel now, because I don't want Orientation's idle debauchery to be as good as things will get. After all, reality sometimes sucks. Think about it: The best time at a restaurant is when you're perusing the menu, picturing a litany of amazing dishes because when the waiter arrives with everyone's plates you find yourself thinking, "Dear, sweet, merciful God of Isaac and Abraham, please, don't let that brown one be mine."
Or think of how it's easiest to be sanguine when the football team is still down by just three touchdowns.
College is the place to experiment. Never have I felt so inundated with opportunity. Finally liberated from the shackles of the College Board, I can take courses like "Concomitant Hydrogeology" and "The Structure of the Maori." The fact that I have no idea what these classes even cover is exactly the reason why they're enticing. I can debate in the Dartmouth Political Union, or travel around the country on the Big Green Bus or climb mountains with the Dartmouth Outing Club. And with the flexibility of the D-Plan, I can study abroad or do service work nearly anywhere in the world. I guess then, I'm only terrified that I'll end up throwing away this opportunity to explore that I'll land a long sought-after, unpaid winter internship at Bank of America, only so that I can then secure a highly desirable spring internship at Goldman Sachs.
That's because the real, underlying nightmare here is that from the very beginning, we're asked what we want to be, and not what we want to do, when we grow up. Our answers change as we get older from football player to astronaut to lawyer but less lofty responses are often met with subtle forms of disapproval. With each wrinkled brow or insipid remark, our real dreams dissolve like A-Rod in the playoffs.
There's a famous saying, "If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans." I sometimes feel like I've already spent too much time stressing over the future. After all, no matter how much time we try to save by biking across the Green or starting next week's assignment early there's never any left over.
I may very well end up at law school. But we all have secret ambitions, like writing a book, organizing a service trip or performing in a professional concert ambitions we fear we'll eventually have to abandon for what's expected of us. I hope that in four years, the Class of 2013 can say that we didn't abandon these dreams. I hope that we have the courage to open those doors on the periphery, the doors that lead to what we really want, even if we're not sure now what exactly that is.
