In twenty days, I will be saying goodbye to my undergraduate career. I will be graduating college at the end of my third year. Despite my early graduation, I assure you that college was everything I could have ever wanted and more.
College was the best three years of my life. In my time here at Emory, I studied political science, pursued my intellectual curiosity in philosophy, took graduate classes across diverse disciplines and audited classes for the love of learning. Outside of class, I sang in a co-ed a capella group, worked as a teacher assistant, was a translator for the Carter Center and started a grassroots education organization questioning how intelligence and achievement is understood in public schools. On a more meaningful level, here at Emory I met a network of people I call my family. I grew, faltered, made memories of laughter, shared moments of tears, and fostered a love for service. All of such has made for a fruitful college experience that is immeasurable in its worth.
But here I am, proposing a thesis for why a shortened (or lengthened) college career does not take away from a proper college experience. I argue that learning does not begin or end with our involvement in an education institution – it’s a conscious choice we are making, everyday, when we expose ourselves to something new or discover meaning in our lives. While college is typically a four-year process, the length of our college experience is not nearly as important as what we do, how we do it and the people we experience it with. While I chose to graduate early, I have friends who have stayed at Emory for a fifth year to continue their pursuit of more knowledge. To me, that choice is admirable and no different than mine, for the indefinite depth of our experience simply cannot be defined by an interval of time.
On a broader scope, I believe Time is a relative phenomenon. While our society divides our lives into certain “meaningful” intervals (i.e. schooling k-12, marriage in your 20s, financial stability and babies in your 30s), we miss the point that we – not anyone else – control the rhythm of our own life. Time is just a bench marker. It does not account for the means of our experience and certain should not compel us to live our life in a particular, rigid pattern. Three years, four years, five years? There is no “right” way to do college; in fact, the only “right” way is to spend it well.
Lastly, I am a firm believer that the best days have yet to come. College is an excellent place to root your dreams; however, it is only the beginning. As we recall the fond memories of our college days, we must not forget to continuously live and create new experiences with the same openness and excitement of our adolescent years. College will never become a part of my past, just a part of me. Frankly, the series of colorful, meaningful memories that have given me fulfillment, insight and love will travel with me wherever I go.
So, I am saying goodbye to “the best four years of my life” a bit early, because three years of college has left me feeling loved, satisfied and – most of all – complete. I am off to tackle another adventure, but college doesn’t end here.
The author is from Boston, Mass. She is graduating with a BA in Political Science.
Editors Notes (May 7th 7:18 p.m.): The content and headline in this editorial were changed to better reflect the intent of the author.
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