Wash. U. forces you to take Writing 1 because the administration thinks you can’t write. The Orientation Executive Board gives you Choices to dissuade you from doing what you’ve probably been doing since your sophomore year in high school. Student Life commissions me to write you an advice column because they think you’re starving for the same advice you’ve been getting throughout your last year in high school.
What none of the well-meaning administration and students gives you is credit. Not to say some of you don’t need a little pointing in the “right” direction or that none of the advice you receive will be useful. Take it all in. From the laughable suggestion to get eight hours of sleep to the “don’t-date-anyone-freshman-year-or-else-your-social-life-will-be-doomed,” every bit of advice you’ll receive about what to and not to do freshman year has a basis in sound reasoning and good intentions. But, truth be told, there’s really no wrong way to do freshman year.
Now, the smart alecks amongst you may immediately say, “What if you fail first semester and have to transfer to another college? Isn’t that a wrong way to do your freshman year?”
Only if you assume failure is wrong. Wrong is a moral judgment. Failure is a mistake (or series of mistakes) that ends in an undesired result. So, if you fail, it doesn’t mean you’ve done wrong (depending on your moral philosophy), it simply means you’ve made a mistake(s). Can a mistake be wrong? Certainly. But even so, the majority of the mistakes you make freshman year probably won’t be wrong (again, depending on your moral philosophy).
Of course, this argument probably wouldn’t hold up with a dean or other official who could strip you of your scholarship, privileges on campus, etc. But within the realm of how you choose to live your first semester, this is a perfectly fine mindset. If you can accept your failures and the mistakes that led to them, then, in my estimate, you’re doing freshman year right.
Stewing over failures and mistakes and trying to avoid them will only waste time and experience: two of the most valuable things you’ll have throughout college. Don’t try and walk the straight line or spend all your time trying to be the “well-rounded student.” That’s what high school’s for.
You’re in college now. This doesn’t necessarily prove that you know what to think (or even how), but that coveted acceptance letter suggests that you definitely can. With that said, sift through every piece of advice you’ll receive and figure out what’s best for you. You may make a mistake, you may fail, but it will be your mistake and your failure.
If the mistakes you make and the things you fail are the sole results of someone else’s thoughts and beliefs, then (in my estimate) you’ve ventured into being wrong. As long as you’re the primary owner of your first year experience, you’re in the right (again, in my estimate).
Of course, all of my advice ill-disguised in a non-advice column is subjective. Feel free to tear everything I’ve said apart. Feel free to ignore me completely. Feel free to peruse a more useful advice column that tells you all the good places to eat, party, etc. It’s up to you.
Wandalyn Savala is a sophomore in the College of Arts & Sciences and can be reached by e-mail at [email protected].