I’ve recently realized that the most important thing about going to college is leaving it. No, I don’t mean going home every weekend, since that would defeat the whole gaining-your-independence thing that I’ve been striving for. But I now know that to really be independent, I have to get off campus every once in a while.

My college is pretty secluded, so when I am here, I am in a little college bubble. Sure, I take care of myself and am independent, but I am surrounded by people I know, or people who would be happy to help me at any moment. Life is pretty simple here, if you ignore the fact that we’re constantly stressed from homework and no free time. But still, if I spent four years within the college limits, I would never learn how to really take care of myself.

Getting away from this bubble at first made me nervous, but now brings me relief. Since I am so close to Boston, I can take the bus into the city and just roam around. I can eat real, non-dining-hall food, and walk past faces that I don’t recognize. And I can be on my own.

College is teaching me all about how to learn. I will leave it with a degree and lots of facts in my head. But hopefully this small-town girl will also learn how to take public transportation, walk through a crowded sidewalk, and be comfortable alone in a city. Getting off-campus can be just as educational as staying on it. And by the end of my four years, I want to say that my time her taught me not just how to learn, but how to live.

My roommate always jokes that I am constantly writing papers. Sometimes, I think she’s right. But I chose classes with papers on purpose—I hate studying for tests or doing problem sets. I would choose an essay over a quiz any day. And while I am glad I chose the classes I am taking, I have found that I always seem to be working…even on weekends.

This is the first time in my life where the amount of time spent in the classroom is significantly less than the amount of time doing work outside of class. Homework used to be a couple of hours a night, which seemed impossibly cruel after spending all my morning and most of my afternoon plunked in a desk at school. Now, class is brief and concise. There’s no taking attendance or explaining the homework. All we do is learn.

I like that I don’t have to spend unnecessary amounts of time doing absolutely nothing in class. But these short classes lead to another change from high school—lots and lots of out-of-class work. Although I have many more hours free than last year, I still feel as busy as ever. But almost two months into college, I think I’ve found my balance. The library has been my savior more than once on a Saturday when my friends and my cozy bed tried to beckon me away from my papers to write. Bringing my food up to my room to eat has given me an extra half an hour to read over a paper before it’s due. Most importantly, I’ve noticed that I have resources through peers and professors which I’ve never encountered before.

All in all, I know I may seem insanely busy to those around me. But there’s a difference between the busyness of this semester and my hectic, stress-filled days of high school. I am choosing these classes; I am choosing to write these essays on these topics; I am choosing to work harder than I would be if I were back home. For once in my academic life, I am busy learning, not busy doing useless assignments. So bring on the papers, I am ready to work.

I am never alone in college. Sure, I have the elevator to myself occasionally and sometimes my roommate is at class when I’m not, but usually there is always someone else nearby. This is drastically different from my high school experience.

Of course I would spend every high school moment from that morning bell—which seemed to ring earlier and earlier as my senior year wore on—to the final bell with my friends by my side. I was part of a bunch of different groups, all of which met after or before school and surrounded me with people. But at home, I had solitude.

With both my parents working and my brother off at college, I spent many nights doing homework, watching bad television and heating up leftovers all by myself. Some may think that would be lonely, but I really liked the peace and quiet.

It’s never quiet here. And sometimes I like it; with all the commotion, I haven’t had time to get homesick or have a culture shock freak out. There’s a feeling of community when I walk around campus and see someone I know or when I strike up a conversation with a stranger in the dining hall. Yet every once in awhile I realize… I never have a moment to myself. Read More »