Lately, I’ve been having a mid-life crisis. Growing up, I was always told one thing: just make it past this. Sacrifice a little longer, and it will all be worth it.
In high school, it was studying a little longer, taking on more activities, giving up time with friends. But it was worth it because these actions would lead to acceptance into a good school, right?
Then I got into a good school. Emory University offered me many opportunities to take the next step and pursue my dreams upon graduation.
But this wasn’t the end either; this time, it was my turn to tell myself it’s only a few more years, just enough to get a good job, earn a sufficient income and prepare myself for an even more prestigious MBA program.
But when does it end?
Like most people in college, we begin to think a lot about what we’re doing with our lives. Whether it comes to concentrating on schoolwork, fostering connections, building relationships or simply partying as much as possible, we all are looking for ways to spend our four years in college meaningfully. I spent a lot of time conversing with people whose college years were coming to a close, and I tried to pay attention to the advice they gave about their college experience.
One in particular stood out to me, and it provided valuable insight to the true purpose of college.
This testimony was from a senior going through the business school. She had worked diligently through her time in college, staying focused on her goal since day one. Now, with a job lined up in New York City, she could look back at her four years of college with content.
Or could she?
If asked about her time spent in college, she could talk about her exceptional grades, her strong work ethic or all the connections she made. What she couldn’t talk about were the nights where a simple midnight meal ended up being an outlandish late-night adventure that ended up at a diner at 4 a.m. with exams the next day. She couldn’t talk about the time a friend came to pick her up after classes to road trip to a school two hours away, party with your friends, wake up at the crack of dawn and make it back in time for your 8:30 a.m. class.
Sometimes you could argue this school is too small, but if you still can’t recognize people as they’re walking by, you begin to question how well you got to know your fellow colleagues. You may say you’re done with college. You’re too mature for such shenanigans, and you’re ready for the next chapter of your life.
But just remember that the work doesn’t end here, and that was the point this senior was trying to make.
Success and leading a life of fulfillment isn’t driven by fame and fortune. By now it sounds too cliche, but in the midst of everything, sometimes we don’t realize we’ve lost our way.
This makes me think of the movie “Click” with Adam Sandler, who plays a workaholic who consistently chooses his career over his family until, finally, he’s left with nothing but his millions of dollars and his CEO position. I think it’s agreeable that this is not what makes a meaningful life.
I don’t want to cause confusion; I’m not advocating against focusing on school. I still do believe in hard work, but sometimes we can get so lost in test scores and grades that we overlook the truly important things in our lives.
Often times, we’re so busy watching out for what’s just ahead of us that we don’t take the time to enjoy where we are.
So the next time you have to make a choice between schoolwork and time with friends, take a second and ask yourself what’s more worth your while. As we get older – sophomore, junior, senior – we have less time for others. Some call that growing up and becoming responsible.
Don’t worry about it too much.
By the time you’re a senior, you may think you’re an old soul. You’re not. Graduation is only the starting line.
So make mistakes, work hard, get to know others and keep in mind that your career is not always the most important thing.
Jonathan Kim is a College sophomore from Eden Prairie, Minn.
The Emory Wheel was founded in 1919 and is currently the only independent, student-run newspaper of Emory University. The Wheel publishes weekly on Wednesdays during the academic year, except during University holidays and scheduled publication intermissions.
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