This is college. The end of the semester. Down to the final two weeks. Before summer sets in. Re-charge time. But for now — these last couple weeks — it’s mayhem. All hands on deck. Jostling and bumping and frantic paper writing and frantic paper grading. Student. Teacher. It doesn’t matter. It always reminds me of the inside of that tornado in “The Wizard of Oz.” Swirling. Cows flying. Bits of debris and wicked witches on broomsticks.
If you look carefully at that scene, there’s a college student racing to turn in a final exam. Look carefully.
When you work on a college campus, this time of year always takes you back. It was when you realized that the old cliché, “It’s not a sprint, it’s a marathon,” was complete bunk. Because that was true three months ago, when there was an entire semester ahead of you. When you should have listened to old clichés. But with two weeks to go, it WAS a sprint! A 26.2-mile sprint!
How often I hear someone say, “I have to write 15 papers, do 17 presentations, take 11 final exams, complete a portfolio that encapsulates my entire college career, find dark matter in the universe … and I have 20 minutes to do it. So … anyone for coffee?”
Remember those days? And you always managed. Somehow we got it done. College students have the ability to bend the space-time continuum. To defy physics in an eternal quest for that miraculous Hail Mary.
How did we do it? Why doesn’t science study this?
In my college Opinion Writing class I wrote on the board what we were doing for the final couple of classes.
One girl’s mouth dropped open. Eyes bulged from sockets like giant full moons.
“I just realized I only have two weeks left in my college career,” she said. She might as well have said, “I just realized I drove my car off a cliff.” I sent a kid to fetch the defibrillator.
Because I’ve been there. When the real world sets in. When you realize it’s down to this, the final couple of classes. All the work you need to do. All the work you’ve done. That you’re about to be set free. YAY! That you’re about to be set free. Holy cr—!
You spend your life going from comfortable nest to comfortable nest. Then someone puts a funny cap on your head and whoosh! Welcome to the rest of your life! Population: You. Safety Net: Zero.
I don’t envy that spot. They’re walking into a great unknown, and an economy that still isn’t there yet.
But this generation can be grittier than we give them credit for. Able to dodge debris and cows and wicked witches in a swirling tornado. Able to write 15 papers and 11 final exams in 20 minutes. Able to finish the long sprint … right after that final cup of coffee.