When we are children, the world tells us that we are capable of anything. We are urged to be movers and shakers, to change what we find to be unjust and to chase the furthest of our ambitions. As we age, however, the veneer of naivete begins to wear thin, and the encouragement we once received to change the world recedes in favor of reality. Perhaps it is to protect us, perhaps it is to sober us or perhaps it is the simple truth that can no longer be avoided; but, whatever the reason, with age comes a wariness and a weariness.
Freshman year, however, often seems to be a reawakening of youthful rigor and, in some sense, the innocence that allows us to forget the concept of limitation. The unknown always carries an aura of possibility, and the promise of new collegiate experiences and opportunities makes for a wide-eyed willingness to do and to try seemingly anything. This is manifested in a variety of ways, some more productive than others, but all the same, there is a recklessness and an invincibility about the first year of college that is truly unique. And while this may be the result of previously having been a big fish in a small pond, there is still something to be said about the excitement of starting anew.
As a freshman, I felt that my peers wanted to change the world, and I knew they had the capacity to. Two years later, I wonder how many still feel the same way.
As I emerge from my sophomore summer and begin my third year at Dartmouth, I have noticed an undeniable shift amongst myself and my fellow juniors. This is, of course, to be expected. Graduation is no longer an eternity away, and the prospect of beginning a career is looming ever closer. Landing the "right" internship becomes increasingly important; the "real world" and off-term opportunities are ubiquitous conversation points. Practicality takes precedence over passion, and the reckless freshman nature, the I-can-do-anything, Superman mentality that was once so tightly embraced, begins to slip away.
We may still believe that we can do anything, but the breadth of "anything" seems to shrink rapidly. Every successive experience becomes a stepping-stone to the next best thing. And in our society, practicality seems to have become synonymous with money. There are things that are more immediately necessary and important than our grand designs. Make money first, then change the world.
But it is not such a simple two-step process. The danger with such a plan lies in the beguiling nature of wealth. Dartmouth's price tag is often justified by future capital gains, and though this is certainly a benefit associated with our diploma, it should not be the only consideration. While there is a reality check associated with growing up, maybe we are still growing up a little too quickly.
As '17s, you will hear time and time again that we poor upperclassmen would love to be in your shoes. And it's true. You have more time than we and, at a school like ours, that may be the most important tool at your disposal. But you also have a state of mind that is unfettered by the passage of time. Do not lose your idealism or your raw sense of possibility. Rather, use Dartmouth to find the things that matter most, and determine how best to pursue them. Dartmouth provides us with resources in a multitude of forms, from connections to professors to knowledge and peers, but Dartmouth cannot determine what we want to do, or how we choose to apply the instruments in our toolkits. It also should never wear you down.
Too often, it seems that college beats the idealism out of its students. We are met with frustrations, stresses and annoyances that, little by little, erode the irrepressibility and dims the light with which we enter. Of advice I have none, but of hopes for the newest members of the Dartmouth family, I have many. Never believe that you cannot change the world, or for that matter, that you cannot change Dartmouth. Always be curious enough to ask why of any situation, at any point in time. Never lose the invincibility you feel now. You are, after all, the closest thing to Superman we have.
