I recently received an e-mail from the University of Wisconsin titled "Application for Graduation." I opened the e-mail, holding my breath and praying that I wasn't missing three credits for some requirement. Did I decode my DARS correctly? Wasn't that 8 a.m. Intro. to Medieval Viking Sagas a Com B?
The message read: "Our records show that you have completed sufficient credits to indicate that you could be planning to fulfill your degree requirements and graduate in May, 2006."
I'm graduating?
Any senior will tell you that as graduation draws near, everyone and their mom asks you what you want to do with your life. As if we seniors weren't already convulsing over grad school applications, job applications, interviews and the like, we can now count on every family member, friend, coworker, acquaintance and houseplant inquiring about our futures.
USA Today featured an article about the problems today's graduates face, and it's enough to make seniors quiver beneath their graduation robes. Citing a study with the encouraging title "Strapped: Why America's 20- and 30-Somethings Can't Get Ahead," the article points out that college loan debt is disgustingly high, rental rates are soaring, wages are stagnant and young people (read: we) are maxing out on credit cards.
Graduation and life after college are hot topics right now among UW seniors. My roommate Allison, after spending last semester having heart attacks between interviews, is now in the enviable position of having a job. My roommate Mollie regularly echoes my own thoughts when she yells in frustration: "I don't know what I'm doing!"
When we arrived in Madison, graduation seemed so remote. We experienced the singular joys of dorm life (a room the size of a suitcase, fire alarms at 3 a.m., communal showers, the anti-alcohol policies that no one followed… ) and, somewhere along the way, grew up.
Freshman, sophomore, junior and senior year have each brought their share of awkward, painful and exhilarating moments, and when I talk to my parents, I'm astounded by how much they've matured since I got to college. With a nod to Mark Twain, maybe people do grow more reasonable with age.
As of mid-May, I'm headed into the unknown along with the rest of the class of Spring 2006. I can't even count the number of times I hear friends and classmates saying: "I'm waiting to hear back" or "I'm not really sure." Other anxieties include, but are not limited to: "Where will I be in six months? Will I find a job? Will I like my job? What kind of a shoebox will I be living in? Who will I stay in touch with? Am I going to stay with my boyfriend/girlfriend? Should I start a new relationship if I'm leaving? Where the hell am I going?"
What a difference a semester makes. In May, all of this year's freshmen will be feeling pretty good about themselves and all the seniors will be panicking.
Yet university propaganda and glossy admissions brochures would have you believe that every year since 1849 UW graduates have actually left college and found jobs. (How else to explain the slurred cheers and glassy-eyed stares from the alum section during Badger football games?) Maybe, instead of terrifying ourselves with what-ifs, we should chill out. The UW band does not play a funeral dirge at graduation. To quote Hollywood's eternal collegian Van Wilder, "You can't treat every situation as a life-and-death matter, because you'll die a lot of times."
Write that down. Even if you haven't found a job or don't know what you're doing by graduation day, if you keep knocking on doors, eventually one of them will open. Ever have your wallet fall out of your jeans just before you finish stuffing a month's worth of laundry in the wash?
Planning for the future is a combination of hard work, persistence and dumb luck. So keep polishing those resumes and pounding the pavement, but don't forget to enjoy your senior year. As the Italian proverb goes, "Morto un papa, se ne fa un altro." When a pope dies, they make a new one. Life goes on.
Cynthia Martens ([email protected]) is a senior majoring in Italian and European Studies.