Every time I log on to Banner Student's DegreeWorks, I see a stark reminder of my "classification" at Dartmouth: junior. I casually sailed through sophomore summer and took comfort in its name, which distracted me from the reality that my college career is halfway over. As the summer haze recedes, we face a still distant but looming "real world" filled with exciting prospects and daunting challenges, taking comfort in not being seniors just yet. As students, we construct our own world as a bubble and live the proverbial dream beyond which another reality awaits. I don't understand why, but I've always differentiated Hanover from the "real world" out there, with the Dartmouth Coach acting like a Hogwarts Express of sorts.
The "real world" for all college students is simply the unknown. It lies out there somewhere, nearby but never entirely visible or approachable. We came from that real world to Dartmouth, but now we focus on its future, where the unknown awaits us. It's a moniker that students at Dartmouth particularly favor during pre-off-term internship applications or post-graduation apartment hunting.
But by calling something outside the Dartmouth bubble the "real world," we paradoxically turn it into an imaginary place. It's no different than the foreboding "college world" that we envisioned back in high school, when college was a similar alternate reality lying just out of view. It's like we never really expected college to happen up until the day we found ourselves on the downtrodden lawn in front of Robinson Hall. But here we are now, imagining a real world that we only glimpse during interims and off terms until the day we finally leave. It's our way of coping with the "real world" itself and with the thought of leaving the safety and security of Dartmouth.
But our use of the term "real world" can also imply that the contrasting Dartmouth world is itself artificial and fake. Whether you view it as a saccharine culture that doesn't heed reality or as an unparalleled college experience, the intimacy of our college community is a comfort. No matter what our personal relationship with Dartmouth is like, it is recognizable and familiar to us when uncertain careers and relationships await ahead.
To make matters more complicated, a "real world" separated from a "Dartmouth bubble" can confuse a student's sense of belonging. Some feel that they never adjust to the Dartmouth bubble on campus, where life seems to defy the laws of common sense. Others struggle when they are forced off campus, itching to get back to what has become a true home for them. I, among others, have even felt lost in between the bubble and the "real world." When dealing with personal issues, no friends or family from home could give me advice. They don't understand how things work here, and often, neither do I. But the bubble is no help either. My friends and peers at Dartmouth couldn't tell me what to do. After all, they are inherently part of the culture and the system, as am I.
Suddenly, the distinctive worlds in which we live Dartmouth, "real" or otherwise become our own respective heavens, hells and purgatories. When I feel burnt out and need to get off campus, the "real world" is my heaven. When the future is unclear or daunting, the "real world" transfigures into my hell. The Dartmouth bubble has been a nest of love and security and a claustrophobic cage for every student. Either way, our separately constructed worlds adapt to our desires and fears in an effort to disengage with the real world. Not the "real world," but the actual real world that includes our past, our present, our future and our Dartmouth, for they are all one and indivisible. Our identity is not specific to either world. The "real world" we all imagine is what we're living right now.
With only four more terms on campus, 12 classes left to choose and two more rooms left to live in, I am quantitatively trying to register that Dartmouth will eventually come to a close. We will always remember Dartmouth as a pivotal four years of our lives, maybe even the best. But it is important to realize now, as in retrospect, that we must treat Dartmouth not as a singular and separate dream world but as an important part of the world we know as our lives.
