Tuesday, 5/13/97 The end is near… GRADUATION: Senioritis
claims another victim who works, studies and writes columns,
too
Apathy, nostalgia, fear. This is what I’m feeling right now
(other than feeling frustrated at being told that I’m going to
print tomorrow and it’s about a half an hour before deadline). I
had a paper due. It was late. A couple of weeks ago, I even cried
in my professor’s office. He was very kind. I’ve been flaking on
other responsibilities as well, most notably Viewpoint. This is why
my print dates have been so sporadic – Wednesday, Friday, Tuesday.
I’m supposed to run on even-week Wednesdays, just so you know. Two
jobs at the beginning of the quarter, two extracurricular clubs and
writing for The Bruin have been taking their toll on my academics.
But, I’ve done it before. Actually, I’ve done more and I could
handle it. But this is Spring Quarter, and I’m a senior. Welcome to
the wonderful world of Senioritis. Apathy: Senioritis is defined by
apathy, a state of not caring, of not giving a damn either which
way. Some time ago, like maybe last year or even Fall Quarter, I
would’ve written an angry article about the recent USAC elections.
But I won’t. I mean I’m sure Kandea is a nice girl and a capable
leader, but the simple fact that she was running as a "Students
First!" candidate made me vote for someone else. I mean, it’s your
student government. Why should I care if "Students First!" is going
to dominate student government again? Why should I care that two of
their own "Students First!" incumbent candidates have been (in the
case of Jaime Nack and Cultural Affairs) or are going to be (in the
case of Eric Shaw and Facilities) replaced by less experienced
"Students First!"-endorsed puppets? I mean, does it really matter
that the dominant "party" used student monies to run an
advertisement linking their own party candidate with the successes
of the past year? Hmmm. Sounds like a violation of the spirit of
the law if not the letter of the law. If I cared, I would write a
whole article encouraging students to vote for qualified
alternative party candidates as general representatives in order to
balance the totalitarian power of "Students First!" – but I won’t.
I’ll just say that a tyrant is a tyrant, regardless of his
political affiliation, and that I hope a multiple-slate system
continues, because UCLA students deserve better than to have to
choose between two evils. Nostalgia: Another aspect of Senioritis
is a mild (or in my case bordering on severe) case of nostalgia. My
roommates would argue that I’m just pre-menstrual – I cry at
commercials and well up at billboards – but I’m already starting to
miss this school. Maybe these thoughts would be more appropriate at
the end of the quarter, but I’m having them now so that’s why I’m
telling you. I see myself now, and I know how great an influence my
high school experiences had in shaping who I am today. I know that
UCLA was the best choice for me and that "I walked in a girl, and
am walking out a woman." The changes are so great I can’t even see
them all. I’m no longer the little freshman girl afraid to speak. I
don’t look at the older Latina students and wish I could be one of
them, strong and self-assured. I am one of them now. For the last
year, I’ve been walking around campus and staring at Powell in the
moonlight, Royce in the afternoon, and saying to myself "You’re
going to leave this place, and when you come back you won’t be a
student, you’ll be an alumna!" Freaky. The more I think about it
the more attached I get. I gave a tour this weekend, and as usual I
spouted out random information, named all the departments in each
building. I never get over how pretty and "collegiate" our campus
is. It seemed like I’d never make it to this point. Just a few
short weeks till I, and 1,500 other social science grads, turn a
tassel, all in the intimate comforts of Pauley Pavilion. Fear: For
some reason I’m sleeping a lot more. I can’t pull all-nighters like
I used to, and sadly, this was the way I survived before. But now,
my professor tells me he’s dropping me from my last sociology
requirement and I can care less. I mean is it my fault that the
sociology department offers the class only when it will conflict
with my work schedule? You know – the job I need in order to get a
job when I graduate. Is it my fault that they don’t have the
decency to offer the class in Summer Session A, but only in Session
B – after I’m already supposed to start teaching? The most
depressing thing is after five years, I really don’t care. I’m so
apathetic that it’s frightening. I can’t even think of topics to
write for my column, and in the fall, I used to think about it all
the time. Graduation means adulthood. Sure, high school graduation
meant that too, but if you go on to college, it’s usually
"adulthood on a trial basis." Most of us are still dependent upon
our parents, or government aid and loans for our livelihood. We
aren’t economically independent, and therefore not fully adults.
Now I’m going to have to really worry about my taxes, savings and
investment, and insurance. I’m going to have to work full-time. For
the rest of my life! What happens if I get sick? If I’m injured? If
my medical insurance doesn’t cover it? I never had to worry about
this stuff as a child. I’m afraid to enter "the real world."
Despite how much I love UCLA, it’s nothing like the real world.
It’s an accurate microcosm of Los Angeles. It is a great forum for
various world and national issues since it encompasses many
international and diverse communities, but in the real world,
people don’t listen to each other. I’m freaked out. I mean this is
It. I’m at the end of the line. When I look back there are some
things I wish I had done. Studied harder and guarded my grade-point
average more, studied abroad, declared my major earlier and stuck
with it. But there’s no going back. I guess that’s what I’m afraid
of. Or maybe it’s going forward. Guzman is a fifth-year sociology
student. Mimi Guzman