First Year Reflections
August 2023 feels like a life-time ago, and yet it feels like my first year at Dartmouth was too short. When the last week of May rolled by, I couldn't believe that I was about to have a few final exams and then fly home—I felt like the fun had just begun. Campus had never seemed more full of amazing people I wanted to talk to and exciting activities I wanted to try out. People were saying, "Okay, I'm ready to take a break from college now," but I was thinking, "Okay, I'm ready to take it to the next level!"
What's the next level? I don't know. I'll have to wait till my sophomore year to find out (man that's gonna be so much waiting!). All I can do now is look back at a fantastic first year of adventures, studies, and occasional mishaps, and marvel at the fact that—"Oh, wait–this all happened to me! Unbelievable."
One of the most freshman-year-defining lessons I learned over these nine months is that you can't force yourself to make a decision you'll have to make N months from now NOW.
In high school, knowing that you have some time to actually go to college and decide what your major is, you don't worry TOO much about it. But once you become a college freshman and everybody starts asking you, "So what are you gonna do in life?", you feel this urgency to pick a major and have a clear answer.
Dartmouth students don't have to declare a major until their sophomore year, and no one here really asks you to pick one early; advisors and deans tell you to explore and try out different things, but I hated the fact that I didn't have a solid answer for people when they asked me what I was going to do with my life. So I tried to give an answer–only that my answer seemed to change every other week!
For full transparency, before going back to my tenth-grade dream of studying neuroscience, I bounced around a NUMBER of majors: first, I thought I'd do Film and Media Studies (at least a minor); then, I thought I'd do Comparative Literature; then English Literature; then Environmental Studies; then Cognitive Science; maybe Computer Science; how about Economics…?
And finally, I took a neuroscience class, and I was amazed at the quiet confidence I felt about it. There was no doubt nagging me at the back of my mind, no prickly feeling at the pit of my stomach. There wasn't any euphoria either. I've had moments where I was thinking, "Maybe this is it! Maybe cog sci IS my major!" No such ecstatic excitement for neuroscience. That's why I said "quiet confidence"—neuroscience felt so natural and obvious that I didn't need to shout it out anywhere.
No matter how much planning or thinking or OVERthinking I did, nothing helped me pick my major except for actually taking a class and seeing how my mind and body reacted to it. I'm a fantasy writer; I like to see how everything plays out in my head first; I rely on imagination and ridiculous amounts of hypotheses. But some things you need to experience, THEN make your decision. And you might need to wait for the right moment to experience them. Or at least I did.
In other words: my first year taught me to be patient because things will always work out.