Lately my mind has been occupied by a ghost of decades past. I didn't particularly love my first year of college, in fact l, it was one of the worst experiences of my life, but it creeps back into my memory from time to time.
Just like my older sisters, after college I set out for pursuit of a university education at a school far from home. It was an exciting adventure I had been looking forward to my whole life where I'd be able to go away to the edge of the world and see first-hand the expanding universe. I was excited to study art, history, political science, literature, and so many other subjects beyond the realm of my earliest education. I was excited, but my excitement didn't last forever.
I moved into the Honors dorms because my sister told me I'd want to he with the "smart people." Most of the people in my dorms were enrolled in the university's Honors program. Many were on scholarship. All appeared to be high achievers.
Much of the conversation, especially at first, seemed to revolve around telling what scholarships everyone was on and how many AP credits people had under their belt. Some people were already college sophomores without ever setting foot in a college classroom.
I guess I was from Hicksville because I don't remember AP credits ever being a thing at my high school. Maybe it was, and I was just considered too dumb to be included in the conversation. In hindsight, I'm not sure that's entirely a bad thing.
All I'd ever wanted to do in life was be an artist, write, and read lots of books. I'd been told I was smart, but I've never been what you'd call cut-throat about anything. I'm certainly no Type A personality. I could make good grades in school, but I was also interested in being a balanced person. There's more to life than being a super achiever. I guess this is the part where I should have amscrayed it out of there and moved to the regular dorms, but I was no quitter either.
My sisters had always told about how fun college was and all of the social activities. They seemed to have lots of friends and get invited to go do things. That wasn't my experience at all. I don't really remember ever being included much. One time I was sitting in a room with several other girls. Someone invited everyone in the room except for me to go do something so I just kind of wandered off alone to my dorm room. Yay exciting Friday night!
The closest thing to social interaction I ever had with my new "friends" was when I'd run into someone in the hall and they'd tell me how stressed they were that they were doing so poorly in their classes and only had a 3.9 GPA. I'd think to myself, "Gee, you should probably pack up and go home. You're a lost cause."
I get that we were in school and the point of school is to study and get good grades, but at what price? Over and over I saw a lack of concern for others. I witnessed people who couldn't have a conversation about anything that didn't include regurgitating whatever material a professor would one day ask as a test question. Ask someone to put away their textbooks and talk about anything real, anything that was going to matter in five, ten, maybe even twenty years from now would have been met with blank stares or an excuse to need to run off to study.
The apex came late one night when I overheard a conversation that I wasn't supposed to overhear. One of the girls in the dorms had attempted suicide. Fortunately she survived. I don't know all of the details, but I do remember that she was far from home, away from friends and family, in a less than hospital environment where everyone seemed to only be concernedabout one thing, and that one thing did not include a sensitive, introverted, soft-spoken girl who really needed a friend.
As I listened to the surreptitious conversation in the room next to me, I watched down the hall at the others continue about their usual business. I began to think about the importance of what is happening in our lives. Yes, doing homework while in school is important, but at what cost? Is it more important than the value of a human life? If you graduate with Honors, earn a PhD, marry the perfect spouse, have lots of money, perfect kids, and live in a Mansion, what worth does it have if you neglected the one who needed your help the very most?
I knew then that I was seeing people for who they truly were at that moment. Most importantly, I knew who I wanted to be and what I valued most. This was a life changing moment that has stayed with me ever since.
So many years have passed that I have forgotten the name of my neighbor who was in crisis all of those years ago. But I can see her face clear as day and I think of her story fairly often, almost daily. Her story has stayed with me longer than anything I ever learned in a classroom.
Once in a while I think of the others who passed through my life during that first year in college. A time or two I have been tempted to call some of them up and ask them how things worked out for them.
"Hey, do you still think accolades are more important than the value of a human life? Do you ever think about the most vulnerable people around you? Or are you still consumed by your own self-interest? How's that working out for you?"
Maybe I need to go look up some phone numbers.
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