I’m Not in College Anymore
Sep 19th, 2006 by Alex
Seriously, I’m not… I swear. I wrote this article three years ago. It was published September 12, 2003 in Reporter Magazine. I still think it is relevant, especially for you kids fresh out of high school starting this year.
I’m Not in College Anymore
Words of Wisdom From a Recent Graduate
I graduated three months ago with an appropriately named B.S. degree in Information Technology. Ears still ringing from the air horns at graduation, and still a bit hung over from all the celebrating afterwards, I packed up all of my worldly possessions and drove home with the “Service Engine Soon” light glaring at me, safe to do so behind the clear plastic instrument cover. At some point during the six hours in the car, I came to the realization that it was all over.
No more interstate long-distance relationships of varying degrees. No more on-campus relationships or “arrangements.” No more bored freshmen faces while teaching First Year Enrichment or while running a floor meeting for the Baker B Boys. No more candidates for Student Government. No more student tax breaks. No more senioritis. No more busting my ass to make the Dean’s List, trying to cram in the last sip of Southern Comfort from the glass and the conclusion to the essay at the last minute.
Whoa. Hold on. Stop the press. Who gave this guy space in Reporter? Who is this kid? Let me start from the beginning, or rather, the end. Perhaps it was the beginning of the end? I don’t remember.
I held quite a few positions while at RIT: student, RA, FYE instructor, lover, ice guard, confidant, accountant, dumpster diver, chef, drinking buddy, disc jockey, boyfriend, writer for Reporter, Purity Test administrator, thief, mentor, designated driver, party host, photographer, webmaster, dealer of adult products, food aficionado, and countless others that I have likely forgotten.
I tended to wake my neighbors around noon with the bass cranked up on the stereo, paranoid that they’d hear the post-sex conversations. I had been critical of the trustees and administration as editor of Gracies Dinnertime Theatre, and later attempted to shed a more positive light on the same group as a writer for Reporter. I partied like a rock star in the back row of Colony, threw parties of my own in Riverknoll where hundreds of dollars worth of liquor was consumed, yet never had alcohol poisoning. I dined with the Board of Trustees, as well as with Dr. Simone, and enjoyed it as much (though on different levels) as dinner at J.B. Quimby’s or late-night Garbage plates. I milked the campus bandwidth (gotta love those OC-3s) for all it was worth–without a single word from ITS, ResNet, or the RIAA–providing thousands of people with various electronic goodies. I even considered marriage for the first time. I wasn’t ever charged for damages to any dorm room or apartment, nor did I ever pay a single parking ticket. I was however, assessed a one dollar late fee from the Wallace Library for some comedy on VHS. I paid it in cash.
Back in my car, it felt like I had done so much, gotten away with a lot, and had a great time, while still managing to graduate with a decent GPA, all on a campus which reportedly has problems with diversity. It seemed strange that after four years at college, that was it. Over and done with. So long. Farewell. And now, somewhere in Reporter’s office beneath the Student Alumni Union, somebody decided that I might have the desire (or perhaps just the spare time) to jot down a few words for this issue. In part, I think it is because I have experienced (and gotten away with) it all. The idea is that if I could do it, so can you. Clich?? Perhaps.
At job interviews I would always say that I liked to get my hands dirty, to get involved with the process. It seems I learn the most when I’m genuinely curious, no matter the subject. Combine this curiosity with my tactile learning style, and that’s the solution for me. What does this have to do with you, you ask? Nothing, and that itself is the point. I found what worked for me. I believe the point of college is to find out what works for you in education, but more importantly in life. Your choices are important. Equally important is that you learn from the results and consequences of those choices, good or bad. Here’s some of what I learned. Some of if may apply to you. Some of it may not. Take it as you will.
Nowhere else will you get the opportunity to learn so much in so little time. Campus life is amazing, imposing its own rules, but flexible enough to allow you to learn with relatively lax consequences. Sometimes learning is painful. The campus serves as a soft landing ground on which you can fall. Yes, it’ll hurt–but it would hurt a lot more in the real world. Use this to your advantage.
Most of what you learn will probably be outside of the classroom. Talking to the people on your floor, arguing with your roommate(s), learning that staying up until the ass-crack of dawn for a week solid isn’t the best way to approach your midterms, or learning that malt liquor doesn’t mix too well with Irish Cream. Most of these life-lessons can’t be taught, no matter how many times you’re told about them. Look forward to them. You’ll learn more from your own experience than you ever could from some graduate’s word in a magazine.
In fairness to all the professors, until you figure out the basics of your life, try to do well in your classes. Not for sake of learning the institutional way, but in that it gives you more options later. You can’t take the upper level courses that you’re interested in if you flunked the lower level prerequisites because they weren’t your cup of tea.
I know this all sounds like a freshmen advice column, but I haven’t forgotten about you upperclassmen. I’ve found that the people who complain about there being no jobs are the same group that complain about there being nothing to do in Rochester, and they’re generally wrong about both. There are jobs out there for you. Don’t listen to anyone who tells you otherwise. For four years I was told that I.T. students got onto the bandwagon a few years too late (after the dot-com frenzy keeled over and died quietly), and that there were few jobs available. This is an outright lie, one that caused quite a few people to give up hope. There are plenty of jobs, I can assure you. Just know that the economy isn’t going to drop a six-figure salary in your lap. If you have the motivation and drive to succeed, you will. It also helps to know who’s hiring and who’s not. The government is offering thousands of stable jobs in hundreds of different areas, for one. Private companies that have government contracts are another. Don’t be afraid to accept the help of anyone who can help you: friends, neighbors, family friends, or even a friend of your cousin’s former roommate. Look to professors who have just come out of the industry or government service–they have tons of networking potential, and most of them will be more than happy to recommend you. Also know that the job offers always seem to arrive when you’ve just about given up.
A few final things that helped keep me sane while at RIT, good for students, staff, and faculty alike.
Bend a few rules from time to time. Partake in a cup of Irish coffee shared between friends before class. Involve yourself in something besides classes or work. Always hit the bars with your professors if they’re willing, even if you don’t drink. Try the Pulled Pork at J.B. Quimby’s, with the bourbon sauce. Learn the back way to Wegman’s, avoiding Jefferson at all costs. Out of context quotes can save the day. Leave your computer without putting up an away message, and observe the havoc that follows. When you think your head will explode from reading any more, go grab a cold one and watch the nature channel. A flat-head screwdriver can afford you all the toilet paper and paper towels you will ever need for your apartment. Get away from your computer as much as you can; if that means going to the library to check out the reserved readings (rather than reading the online PDFs), do it. Don’t waste your time thinking about the way things could have gone.
Above all, do what you must do to get things done. This is your time. Waste it away if you please, but know that it will fly by faster than you can possibly imagine. I wish you all the best.
The author is a 2003 graduate of RIT, and a happily employed computer guru. After hours, he is developing cutting-edge marble technology. He lives in an apartment near Washington, D.C., devoid of any furniture.
