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