Monday, September 28, 1998
Graduate’s long summer followed by road of life
ALUMNA: Being adult redefines financial, spiritual
independence
It’s September again, and three glorious summer months have
yielded to the impatient autumn with barely a fight. All through my
childhood, this time of year simultaneously meant desperation and
exhilaration; I was desperate in my scramble to make the most of my
last weeks of freedom and yet exhilarated by the idea of starting
school, planning my first-day wardrobe, figuring out who I would
sit next to and who would go out with whom.
After starting at UCLA, well, let’s just say I got used to the
idea of waiting almost a full month after Labor Day for school to
start. By the end of September, in fact, I was itching to get out
of Mom and Dad’s house and move back up to Los Angeles with my
friends. All of my high school pals were already off to another
year, and September really began to get boring. I’ll be honest – it
is possible to have too much time and too little to do, and at that
point, even the prospect of homework starts to sound appealing, if
not at least time-consuming.
So now another year has gone by, another summer. In July, I
called University Records System Access (URSA) to get my spring
grades and waited agonizing weeks until she finally calculated my
cumulative GPA. I moved all my books and notes to their rightful
places (home or trash), and this time, I decided to get a "real"
for-the-summer job in Washington D.C.
Those sun-filled months have just flown by (especially since
they have been observed through an office window). Before I know
it, here I am again, facing another September.
But this time is different. Surrounded by tons of other people
my age, most of whom are UCLA students like myself, I feel a sense
of camaraderie, until I notice they are all doing something that I
no longer do – they are registering for classes. My roommate walks
around quizzing me on the best and worst English professors.
Co-interns slam down the phone with frustration or joy after a
typically impersonal bout with good old URSA. I, on the other hand,
am staring at my first UCLA Alumni Association newsletter. What has
happened?
While everyone else calculates their units and chooses good
general education classes to take, I am keeping close watch over
the hundreds of employees who roam these halls, adults shuffling
around in nylons or ties and dress shoes, well into their 30-year
careers, adults whose ranks I am supposed to join in a matter of
weeks. There is no pause after Labor Day before life begins – the
day after Labor Day is life.
As you might imagine, I have been sighing a lot lately.
Closely following the realization that I am not going back to
UCLA as an undergraduate student ever again comes the thought that
I am, perhaps, an adult, which then brings me to the discovery that
my friends must also be adults. My roommate is starting law school.
Several other friends have sold their souls to investment banking
or consulting firms at 80 hours a week and a very livable salary
(don’t kid yourself). I even know several couples teetering on the
brink of marriage – and these are not acquaintances, these are
people I know and love, whose parents approve and everything. Could
it really be that I am actually old enough for all of this to be
normal?
As with any important change in my life, I have been somewhat
prepared with a way to handle the transition long before the change
itself actually mentally hit me. Consequently, I had a job lined up
for me when I returned from D.C. It’s a great job with people I
love, a decent pay and a flexible enough schedule so that I have
ample time to go home and stress about what I will actually be
doing for the rest of my life.
Unfortunately, to my parents, this preparation spells out
"complete financial independence," and so now I not only face an
endless September but also endless issues of car and health
insurance, rent and taxes on top of that.
But isn’t that what an undergraduate education is supposed to
prepare you for? Especially since there are hundreds of my fellow
UCLA students who have been doing it independently all along – I
can do it as well as the next guy. If that is the case, then why is
the prospect so scary? Why is there so much comfort in having a
schedule full of classes and something that has to be studied at
all times?
I guess my anxiety comes down to one struggle, one dilemma, one
irony – the concept and definition of freedom. Freedom is what
baffles every college graduate, what keeps my friends and me
incessantly pondering and debating.
The dilemma is as follows: the more freedom I have to choose my
career, to explore my options, to be young and travel and breathe
the fresh air while I am still responsible to no one, the less
freedom I have financially. It means I am not building or saving
for any future, and it means that, when I am done exploring down
the road, I will still be in the same undefined limbo that I am in
right now.
Conversely though, the more committed I am to a career now, the
more hours I spend and the more money I make, there is less time I
have to figure myself out, to take advantage of the fact that there
is a whole world open to me. I will have built a foundation for
what could be a life-long, lucrative career – but it might be the
wrong one.
And so, as I fill out the card to receive my diploma and pack my
bags to go home in my last week of financial dependence, I am
thinking about what it really means to be an adult. I wonder, is it
financial security or spiritual security that’s more valuable? Do I
have a greater responsibility to my community and my future family,
or to myself? As in most things, I imagine the answer lies in
compromise; I have to make sure that I neither lose my grip on
myself in order to fit into the system, nor lose my grip on the
system while in search of my self.
I am glad that I didn’t spend more time at UCLA – it was time to
graduate and move on. I do not feel unprepared for this transition.
I think that adjusting is simply difficult, no matter how much I
could have anticipated it. But I plan to make something out of the
change, to grow from it and struggle just like I have in the
past.
When I look at it that way, then, this September is no different
from any other September in my life – it is still desperate and
exhilarating at the same time. The only difference is that now I am
scrambling to make the most of a whole life, not just a lost
summer.
I am exhilarated, not just for a new class, new clothes or
another rung on the ladder. This time, I breathlessly face the
dawning of a new life, a new world and a new me.
White is a 1998 alumna who graduated with a degree in
English.
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