I’m sick and tired of hearing about our sick-and-tired economy. It seems as though hard economic times have gotten to all of us in one way or another, and it’s no news that now is a particularly bad time to be a college student.
But I refuse to give in to this negativity.
Call me naive, idealistic or simply in denial ““ but I absolutely will not let the sinking economy sour my college experience, which at the heart of it is about the education I receive, not the cost associated with it.
And neither should you.
Trust me, I’m not completely blind to the John Steinbeck realities of our world today.
After all, I’ve done my reading.
In July, The Wall Street Journal published an editorial titled, “The Declining Value of Your College Degree.” The article basically outlined how the once-almighty Bachelor’s degree is now a boring, basic job requirement, equivalent to keen typing skills or a snazzy cover letter.
The Washington Post reported earlier this month that youth suicides have continued to rise in the U.S. Specifically, the article noted that suicide rates are prevalent among older teens due to college-related stresses (admissions and tuition costs), and ““ of course ““ the lack of available positions in the job market.
Bad news is everywhere, and it’s hitting everyone ““ young and old.
Once-iconic yellow school buses are now a dying breed due to high fuel costs. We’ve added the dismal term “stay-cation” to our vocabulary, in which a legitimate vacation is substituted for a local detour within a five-mile radius of our hometown. And part of the “movie magic” formula that made “Dark Knight” such a hit this summer was the fact that movies are one of the few forms of relatively cheap entertainment left out there.
But what does all this mean for us college students?
Are we to revert back to the Stone Age in order to save money on textbooks and school supplies?
Shall we take our finals by carving our answers in the concrete of Bruin Walk?
No, but we definitely need a change in perspective.
We’re often so plagued by the combined burdens of rising costs and falling GPAs that we forget our original purpose for being here.
I too am guilty of such self-distraction.
But it was last fall when I received a much-needed and much-valued reality check.
It was a Friday in early December. I had managed to leave my house in a flurry, and completely disregarded the light drizzle outside by throwing on a pair of flip-flops.
Of course by the time I reached campus, it was full-on tsunami status (at least by my sheltered Southern California standards), and I ““ frostbitten and grumbling that I had forked over the $8 for a sub-par parking spot ““ hobbled along to class.
By the time I arrived, my jeans were soaked up to my knees in ice-cold gutter water, and I cursed myself for such stupidity: for not calculating a more functional outfit, for succumbing to the ridiculously high price of gas and parking, and for showing up for a Friday class in the first place.
It was one of those storybook, post-adolescent “bad days” that made me shake a fist at the college gods.
But instead of marching on home (I figured I’d defrost a little) I stayed for that class. It was my last lecture before finals week, and rather than give a robotic rundown on finals mechanics (number of blue books needed, policies on cheating, etc.), my professor delivered a compelling and powerful oration on the assassination of Julius Caesar. It was so entertaining that it earned a standing ovation from the entire class.
It was perhaps in this moment that I realized why I decided to go to college in the first place: to make intelligence an everyday indulgence, and to escape from daily, dismal realities.
So, for now, use this time and UCLA’s vast opportunities to plot your own escape.
Because one day the economy will bounce back, grades won’t matter, and you will have long forgotten all about your academic and financial woes.
But by then you’ll be long gone from the confines of Westwood, and you’ll want to remember the parts of UCLA you actually loved and enjoyed ““ not how much you paid for it.