Generation Magazine

By Jordan Brown

Along with a few thousand other students, August 31, 2009 was a huge moment in my life. It was my first day of college. I was entering the realm of higher education—a place where only those privileged with acceptance letters and significant motivation will go. I wasn’t sure what to expect. How would I balance the rigorous coursework with all the fun that college offers? Were the rumors true, did professors really not speak English? Did they really not care about how you did in their classes? The mystery of college intrigued me.

My first class was on a Monday at 11 a.m. I was pleasantly surprised when I walked into a class about as large as my classes in high school—Writing 2 with Jane Adam. She was the kind of teacher that I could easily get along with. She greeted me with a warm smile that really encapsulated her whole personality. She cared. Her medium-length hair was at the midway point from between black and gray, and though she was still relatively young as far as professors go, the grayness in her hair spoke about what she knew. I knew I was going to enjoy this class.

My second class of the day was COM 101 in Norton Hall. This was my first encounter with a lecture hall. It was like you were a drop of water in a sea of students. I knew the moment I walked in that this class was going to be a struggle. The professor tried to make himself approachable with talk of his favorite movies and love of sports, but something in his voice was distant.

This is how my classes were split; either in lecture halls or in 15 to 20 person classrooms. It made an interesting mix.

The university created each freshman’s schedule and grouped 10 or 15 of us together for each class, in order to make the transition into college a little easier. You were able to see familiar faces in each class. I didn’t take advantage of this provision soon enough.

Living at home during school, and my undeniable awkwardness, made it difficult for me to make friends. Dorms basically force to students to mingle because they are forced to be around someone every waking moment. Living at home, I was still surrounded by most of my friends that didn’t go away to school. This made me not feel the need to open up. For the first three quarters of the fall semester, I just sat quietly in my classes, making as little contact as possible. I ate alone a lot of the time and read in the commuter lounge. Even with my anti-social and awkward ways, I found the commuter lounge-dwellers to be a little odd. Every day, no matter what time I went to the lounge, there seemed to be the same group of students, sitting on the same side of the room, taking up all of the chairs, talking about the same things—Modern Warfare and how dumb their professors were. They all seemed to be 13th year seniors who spent no time in class. They constantly talked about how Metallica was, is and always will be the best rock band of all time. They were strange to me, but they seemed to have something I lacked; companionship at school, which really does make classes go by faster.

End of fall semester. Total weight gain: 5 lbs.

Despite failing to meet my quota for the “freshman 15” and bulk up a little, the fall semester was fairly successful as far as first semesters go. I made it my resolve to join a student club or program that would allow me to express my ideas and thoughts, and grant me the opportunity to meet new people. I thought maybe a student publication would be the best place for me to do so. I heard about Generation starting up again, and I was more interested in analyzing and critiquing things, rather than going out and reporting on ho-hum events. After some inquiring about contact information, I sent the editor the following e-mail:

This e-mail was the start of an experience that allowed me to become a better writer, a wittier person and helped me realize that being awkward is OK. To steal the descriptive characterization of the powerful Spectrum writer Jameson Butler, I met a Canadian who was willing to overlook my grammatical flaws and make me seem like a halfway-decent writer. I met the Canadian’s girlfriend—who laughed at my objectifying humor—and a bunch of other indie hipsters who let me in on their inside jokes.

College for me has been nothing like the crazy antics of “Animal House” and “Van Wilder.” I have yet to attend any parties on South Campus or sleep with an entire sorority. College hasn’t been much like “Good Will Hunting” or “Wonder Boys” either; I haven’t found friendship and inspiration in my troubled professors. For me, freshman year was neither crazy nor inspirational. It was just average, but it was eye opening.

End of freshman year. Total weight gain: 5 lbs.

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