I’m oversimplifying, over-dramatizing, and over-Cliffs
Notes-ing matters, but it should be noted that orientation tells
you pretty much nothing about UCLA.
Don’t get me wrong. I loved orientation; it’s still
one of my very favorite college memories. I went to the last
session, 110 ““ the one with all the people who either put off
registering until the very end or had other real plans for the
summer, and thus thankfully the one with the lowest ratio of
tedious Reese Witherspoon in “Election” overachievers.
It’s an exciting time, with the world seemingly at your
doorstep, and you generally get to spend at least one night staying
up until the break of dawn playing corny games or trading all kinds
of stories and dirty jokes with your makeshift dorm floor. Half the
people I hung out with first year were from that session.
The thing is, in addition to its many endearing qualities,
orientation is still trying to sell you something. The effort is
made to put a good face on UCLA, to highlight its best aspects:
diversity, student leaders, academic success, the athletic program,
dorm food rankings, making out at the statue garden, etc.
Orientation is a movie trailer, with all the funniest jokes and
biggest explosions packaged neatly for you, and none of the
throwaway dialogue or cheesy acting. If you’re like me, the
first UCLA student you ever really talk to is your counselor,
who’s a good deal more genuine and caring than the pre-meds
in your chemistry class who won’t even give a straight answer
about what you missed on Monday. Famous alumni are talked up, but
not how hard everything can be for misfits such as my friend Becky,
who dropped out after a quarter. And, freshmen, just wait until you
get to sign up for classes on your own, and navigate the crapshoot
that is online registration.
Trailers will also almost never tell you what’s actually
good about a movie. They’re all Jessica Alba and not enough
Mickey Rourke. So, sure, the 8-clap is nice and the sex-ed
presentation helpfully informs you that a good deal of the freshmen
are virgins, but what’s harder to package is that
you’ll inevitably meet a special few people who inspire and
move you, or that the skinny Asian dude down the hall has really
awesome taste in music.
You may be asking, “So what’s UCLA really like,
then, Misstra Know-It-All?” It’s not that complicated.
If orientation is a movie trailer, UCLA is a pretty good movie.
I know high school commencement speeches went on about finally
going out into the real world, but from the moment you step onto
campus, you’re entering a bubble not unlike the
air-conditioned escapism provided by the movies. For many,
enjoyment requires a Coleridge-ian suspension of disbelief; you
have to buy into the system, and believe that grades matter, that
‘SC sucks, that your classmates and professors are
interesting. Maybe you bring a significant other, but in all
likelihood he/she will be out of sight, out of mind after the
opening scene.
The pretty good movie is a unique phenomenon, situated somewhere
between crappy and great. When you see a crappy movie,
there’s no denying just how bad it is. A great movie, on the
other hand, floors everyone by virtue of its inherent
greatness.
What’s unique about the pretty good movie is that there
are both crappy parts and great parts, and that ultimately, what
you take away from it depends entirely on expectations and
attitude. If you come into UCLA expecting to be immersed in a world
chock-full of brilliant, beautiful people, you will be sorely
disappointed. But if you focus on its bright spots, there are more
than enough for a fulfilling time.
And like any pretty good movie, UCLA is just barely worth its
exorbitant cost. Everything about UCLA, it seems, costs too damn
much, from housing ““ both cramped dorms and apartments in
Westwood ““ to tuition hikes to textbooks. But whether
you’re paying too much for popcorn or a beefed-up stack of
Xeroxes you can’t even re-sell, the experience, I’d
say, is worth it in the end.
So, having both watched “Batman Begins” and spent
three years at this fine institution, I’ll venture here that
the key to getting the most out of both is the same: Keep your
expectations open, focus on what works, and prepare to put a dent
in your wallet.
And hey, at least you’re not getting as ripped off as you
would be at the Grove ““ or attending that private school
right near it.
E-mail Lee at alee@media.ucla.edu.