Summer break — a three-month leave from school during which responsibilities are abandoned, feet go bare and possibilities seem endless. Or so one would hope.
While the summer experience of our youth varies from child to child — ranging from summer camps and vacation to part-time jobs or caring for family — there is no doubt that my and many of my friends’ leisure time dissipated with maturation. As each summer passed, the next held less promise of enjoyment and idleness and instead became a tool of self-advancement.
In high school, my summer breaks became opportunities to flesh out college applications. “You can enjoy yourself,” family and teachers would say, “but make sure you do something colleges want to see.”
Now, in college, summer seems to be the time to supplement my LinkedIn and prepare myself for a career. But why? Why can we no longer take summer at face value and respect it for what it should be: a break?
Amid increased pressure to secure summer internships and stack up professional experiences, college students must recognize the value of a well-deserved break — and accept that they do not have to meet prescribed success metrics.
Between classes, extracurriculars, jobs, clubs and jam-packed social calendars, college students are especially in need of a break. Rounding out my first year of college, I couldn’t wait for the relaxed, familiar pace of life back home. I had no plans except to work as a server at a local restaurant, go to the beach and spend time with friends I hadn’t seen in months. However, doubt crept into my previously assured convictions as I discussed summer plans with my peers. As classmates shared internship and pre-professional opportunities, I felt I was somehow wasting my summer. Should I also apply for an internship or seek out professional experience? Should I be getting serious about my future?
As these questions zipped through my mind and I worked myself into a spiral, I forgot to consider what I wanted. I weighed my original leisurely plans against a more ambitious, career-oriented agenda. While the former sparked excitement and anticipation, the latter made my heart jump and my palms sweat. The most anxiety-inducing aspect was not the idea of an internship or professional job; rather, my stomach churned at my lack of concrete summer plans and a suffocating expectation to succeed. Convinced that I couldn’t fall behind my peers, I rushed to build a roadmap to success without first considering my ultimate objectives.
Taking a step back, I considered why I loved my original plan. I was excited to enjoy the peace of mind that comes with the familiarity of home and determined to take advantage of one of my last summers to experience it. I charted a roadmap in my mind — next summer, I would be on campus for sophomore summer, and following that, I knew it would be time to actually “get serious,” as daunting as that sounded. I recognized that all I wanted from my freshman summer was three months of idleness. Who knew when I’d next get an opportunity like that?
As I return to school for fall, I couldn’t be happier with my decision. I’ve spent the last three months doing exactly what I’d planned — spending time with family and friends, especially those I’m not guaranteed to see consistently after this summer. The other day, I apologized to my parents for missing dinner because I was out with friends. Surprisingly, my dad told me he was glad I wasn’t home.
“This is the last summer you and your friends will all be in the same place,” he said. “I hope you’re spending as much time with them as possible.”
As sad as the sentiment was, it assured me that I had made the right decision. Life isn’t meant to be a cakewalk, but we still need to honor our right to leisure.
I don’t mean to say that every college student should spend their post-freshman year summer like I did, but I urge everyone to assess their true needs — and to spend their time accordingly. Take the time to figure out what you want to achieve, how you want to grow as a person and how your current trajectory will allow you to realize these goals. I can’t honor the truest version of myself and become the person I want to be by following others’ leads. Have the courage to honor your intuitions and choose unlike those around you. It took me my entire freshman year to realize this, but once I delineated my personal standards from external pressures, I gained an uninhibited, refreshing view of my future.
Comparison is a killer. No one’s path is or should be identical. To those weighing their leave-term options, I suggest considering how your plans will advance your character instead of your career. Anyone can cite pre-professional experience on a job application, but the lived experiences that develop one’s identity and attributes are invaluable assets.
Opinion articles represent the views of their author(s), which are not necessarily those of The Dartmouth.
