Dear ’18s,
Welcome to college. As a senior who has three years of experience on you (and, therefore, infinite amounts of wisdom), allow me to give you a gift — some advice.
First, don’t say your acceptance was “just luck.” It’s true that the admissions process is a crapshoot, but it’s important to know your worth. There’s a trend on campus to put ourselves down, likely because we want to seem modest or protect ourselves from failure. College is a great time to learn how to be proud without being arrogant.
Second, there is no ideal meal plan. I’ve tried quite a few, and regardless, I have negative DBA by week seven. My Collis lunch is often $10, and for that price I might as well have gone to Market Table. It’s worth buying the salad sampler and taking it to the Collis porch. Not only is it delicious, but you also avoid getting a backpack to the face and soup down your shirt.
It’s hard being sick, and I’ve been dissatisfied with service at Dick’s House. The nurses can be so nice, but nice doesn’t do much for pneumonia. When I’ve been really sick, I’ve skipped out on Dick’s House entirely and gone to the emergency room. Safety and Security is pretty hesitant to drive you if you haven’t tried Dick’s House first, which is why you should always know a friend with a car.
If you’re an introvert, get a single. I enjoy socializing, but I need to be alone in order to recharge. A roommate makes that nearly impossible. If you have a weird sleep schedule, take showers at 3 a.m. and eat snacks that aren’t yours, do everyone a favor and get your own room.
Don’t go on a language study abroad program unless you want to learn the language. My friends at other schools were loose cannons on their study abroad trips while I was passing out with the French dictionary. Think about why you want to go abroad, and do some serious research on the trip. Don’t like art, churches or French? Maybe the LSA+ isn’t for you. The people matter, too — you’re going to be with them for three straight months, in hostels, sharing cheap wine, listening to them talk from the minute you wake up in the morning until you’re trying to fall asleep with a pillow over your head at night.
Dartmouth often feels like a bubble, but making non-student friends can counteract some of those fishbowl feelings. Get to know professors with whom you share interests so that you can actually converse when you take them to lunch with your Student Assembly voucher. Don’t be afraid to check out their work; I’m currently gobbling up a book of poetry by one professor and can’t wait to discuss it with her in the fall. We’re surrounded by some brilliant people. It’s not empty flattery to express interest in their accomplishments.
Learn how to hold your liquor. In my experience, many students (myself included) don’t seriously consider its effects at first — he just threw up on himself, she just fell down the stairs, no big deal. But alcohol can put you in really hazardous situations. It’s not a paradox to say that drinking can be both safe and fun. The rubber band trick is brilliant. Determine how many drinks you can safely consume before you go out, and keep that number of rubber bands on your wrist. For each drink you have, move a rubber band to the other wrist. When you run out of rubber bands, you’re done.
That brings me to my last lesson learned. Many people here are facing the same struggles you are: eating disorders, mental health disorders, substance problems, lousy relationships, pressures to be successful, et cetera. Take time to ask people how they are and be honest about how you’re doing, too. Opening up is difficult, but it’s worth putting yourself out there. Professors are also a resource. Crying in office hours is not embarrassing — it’s a rite of passage as obligatory (though never as eagerly discussed) as being a clueless freshman with many lessons to learn. Savor this moment.
