It just hit me recently that I am a senior is college now. I’ve been a senior before, obviously. But, this time senior week doesn’t have a Hawaiian theme, and this time getting the diploma seemed to have more blood and tears and wine involved. (Well, the first diploma didn’t have any wine involved actually.) Let’s just say this time around I have more concerns, and I might actually cry while walking across the stage instead of sprinting like four years ago.
Last classes: Busy work vs. Work that determines your future.
Ah, senior classes in high school were the ones everyone waited for. Sure, even if you were in AP courses, at some point in the semester, everyone stopped caring. This usually happened around the second period of the first day. Even the teachers kind of just shrugged because they knew they wouldn’t be getting anything higher than the bare minimum work out of you. I think I only studied for the AP tests and even then…studying happened at Taco Bell, and no one really remembered talking about psychology.
But your last courses in college? HA. HAHAHA. Don’t even think about getting off easy. These are the last level of classes of your major, and that means everything you have ever learned and have been working toward your whole life (er, college career) has led to this moment. Oh, and if you have more than one major or a few minors? Good luck. You might not make it out with all your hair.
Teacher relationships: See you sometime in the next few years vs. I will be emailing you for the next seven years. Constantly.
I loved some of my high school teachers. They knew how to treat their students like adults while still helping them through the agonizing process of choosing a life path. However, besides the occasional hello or happy birthday on FB, I unfortunately can’t say I have kept close communication with them. They moved on and so have I. I would visit them, but I don’t like setting foot into my high school without extreme need. (Needless to say, I’ve never had that need.)
College professors will be your mentors. They have seen you at your best and your worst. And I mean WORST. Like. ugly crying, snot bubbles, about-to-drop-out-and-get-a-job-at-Walmart worst. From getting your first bad grade because they expect more from you to finding out you got that internship you have been pining for ever since freshman year, they are your rocks, and you will always want them close in your life. I don’t think I could leave college without having them on speed dial or be in constant conversation with me about every decision I will ever make. I don’t want to think about how hard that goodbye is going to be…
Planning for the future: Making your college course schedule vs. Making your 5-year plan.
Picking your college classes and getting books was easy. Oh, I am in astrology? Cool, I guess I want to know more about Mars or the Milky Way, since it’s my favorite candy bar. I used to get anxiety when my book was still in the mail on the first day of class. It was syllabus week, baby Kim. Calm the heck down.
Resumes. Applications. Crying on the phone to your mom. Cold calling. Branding. Networking. Rebranding. Building your portfolio. I’m not going to go on because my anxiety is skyrocketing past book-in-the-mail-on-the-first-day-of-classes level.
In reality, I don’t even think someone can get college senioritis. And if they do, it’s only for a short period of time because they then realize getting out of college means not having the comfort of making a huge life-altering decision without too many consequences. I thought I was ready for this year to fly by and me to drive away from Milledgeville for-eh-ver (please read in Sandlot-style dramatism), but the next step isn’t another few years of school. It will be some hard years of the world schooling me at life.