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September 20, 2017 - Image 11

Resource type:
Text
Publication:
The Michigan Daily

Disclaimer: Computer generated plain text may have errors. Read more about this.

I

tripped and ate shit the
moment I stepped into
a 300-person lecture
hall on the first day of

classes.

“Today Is The First Day Of

The Rest Of My Life” — John
Denver

Composing
myself
and

dusting off my freshly-pressed
thrifted Hawaiian shirt, I
made my way to my first
lecture of my college career:
Something-Something
101.

Despite having just ruined
any chances of making friends
by becoming really solid
acquaintances with the floor,
optimism shined through me
— no sense in being a stick
in the mud when your entire
future is sprawled out in front
of you like Thanksgiving
dinner.

A goofy smile stretched

across my face. I always knew
I would major in Something-
Something. My dad was a
Something-Something major.
My mom was a Something-
Something
major.
My

grandma’s brother’s uncle’s
neighbor in West Palm Beach,
Florida, was a Something-
Something major. It was
my destiny. No, it was my
Destiny’s Child.

Before I got that carpet-

shaped indent in my face, the
first day of college couldn’t
have been more picturesque.
Nothing like Animal House
though.

“Perfect Day” — Lou Reed
“It was a perfect day. I’m

glad I spent it with you.”

While there was no sangria

in the park like Lou would
have wanted, the morning
started with a lukewarm
shower, a long decision of
what old man shirt I was going
to start my college career
with and an everything bagel,
toasted, with cream cheese —
everything I could have asked
for.

As I took my first step out of

South Quad, the summer air
washed over me — nature’s

way of saying “Way to go,
Matt. You are so handsome
and charming and you would
never smash your cranium on
a dirty lecture hall floor.”

Flash forward. I picked

myself up and made my way
to the third row (because you
want to show you care but
you don’t want to be a brown-
noser).
As
the
professor

made her way to the lectern,
the mental prowess of post-
secondary education hit me.

In the wise words of 21th

century philosopher April
Ludgate: “Time is money,
money is power, power is
pizza, and pizza is knowledge,
let’s go.”

Why don’t I just take every

class ever? Money is not a
constraint when the gift of
knowledge abounds.

“How Much A Dollar Cost”

— Kendrick Lamar

I’m going to major in

Something-Something, take
every prereq and optional
course I can and stay here
until I know everything there
is to know about Something-
Something.

Intuition over tuition.

The professor did that little

clearing-your-throat,
I’ll-

wait,
please-shut-the-hell-

up beginning of class thing.
Everyone fell silent, opened
their laptops and I prepared
for the greatest first lecture of
my life.

“Okay class. Welcome to

Something-Something
101.

We’re gonna get started.”

And that’s when I felt lost.
“Lost Ones” — Ms. Lauryn

Hill

What in the wide, wide

world of sports is this woman
talking about? I thought
I knew what Something-
Something consisted of but
this is nothing like the major
description
online.
She’s

talking too quickly. This
lecture makes absolutely no
sense, like when you say, “You
too” when the movie theater
attendant says, “Enjoy your
movie”.

While the professor sped

ahead, I was about eight slides
back — how am I supposed
to type that quickly? I never
took one of those elementary
school typing classes so I still
peck the keyboard. It isn’t fair

but I live with this academic
disadvantage.
Give
me
a

medal, please.

By that point, I was freaking

out. Was the lecture getting
hotter or was it just me?
(Not flirting, just genuinely
sweaty.)

“Hot in Herre” — Nelly
My fingers were leaving

balmy, gross marks on my

keyboard. I felt my shirt
getting noticeably damper
than it was on the walk over
from South Quad. Things
are moving too quickly. I’m
not ready to grow up. I can’t
handle this large amount of
information packed into 50
minutes. How am I going to
make my dad and mom and
grandma’s brother’s uncle’s
neighbor in West Palm Beach,
Florida,
proud
without

my
Something-Something

degree? I might as well waste
away in an abyss of my own
self-pity and Milano cookies.

35
minutes
in,
I
was

drowning in slides and bullet
points and offhand comments
that might be on the exam.
I was about to burst into
flames.

“Man on Fire” — Edward

Sharpe and the Magnetic
Zeros

I was a shame. I was a fraud.

I was a mess (well, I was a
mess before this class but let’s
let bygones be bygones).

The 50 minutes expired

and everyone packed up
their
notebooks,
laughing

as they headed toward their
next class. I sat still, lost in
thought. I thought maybe
Something-Something wasn’t
my true calling. I felt like I
was abandoning everything
I had ever known to be true,
but what else was I supposed
to think? I was always so
set on my future that I felt
like I couldn’t quit without
becoming a disappointment.
But it was the only thing I
could think of. How was I
supposed to force myself
into this major and career if I
couldn’t even survive the first
day?

I felt like I was stuck in a

current, washing me away.

“In Undertow” — Alvvays
“You find a wave and try to

hold on for as long as you can.
You made a mistake you’d like
to erase and I understand.”

Am I in too deep? Can you

make such a drastic switch
like this so quickly?

Yes you can.
It doesn’t matter if you

thought you wanted to major
in Something-Something or
Yada-Yada or Who-Knows-
What. If you aren’t passionate
about what you do, you
need to find what you are
passionate about and chase
it. You know what you want.
Not what your dad wants.
Not what your mom wants.
Not what your grandma’s
brother’s uncle’s neighbor in
West Palm Beach, Florida,
wants. What you want.

You can’t force a puzzle

piece into a space it doesn’t fit
in. Everything’s Gucci, you’re
A-OK, and it’s all right.

“Don’t Think Twice, It’s All

Right” — Bob Dylan

3B
Wednesday, September 20, 2017 // The Statement

Soundtracking: changing your major

BY MATT HARMON, DAILY STAFF REPORTER

ILLUSTRATION BY MICHELLE PHILLIPS

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