A rather reflective account of my four-year college
journey transcending adolescent whims and a
somewhat embarrassing muse of growing older but still remaining young at heart.
The first college brochure I picked up on career day, the last term of high school, is still etched in my mind. The cover page featured a diverse group of what I assumed were really good friends, sitting on freshly mown grass, laughing and smiling at whatever amusing statement was made before the picture was snapped. And if that didn’t paint the picture of the next four years of my life, then I would be indefinitely robbed of the dream I was sold that day.
Inevitably however, contrary to the unwavering narrative movies have us imagining, college is actually quite the conflicting truth.
My first year, heart a little sore that my high school friends were all moving further away, I donned my armour and armed myself with the full possibility of all that the Media Studies Department of the University of Botswana had to offer. Looking back now, my only regret was not taking more classes* (I feel you rolling your eyes at that).
The next three years went by in such a flash that by the time I came to, I was slapped hard in the face with having to figure out what my final dissertation would entail. (That’s the part they leave out of those cliché movies; deadlines, assignments, late nights in the library, keeping up your GPA and ultimately how shitty it feels being so indecisive about what to major in.)
Question. How do you sum up four years of photography, motion graphics, video production and public relations into one project, showing what you learned and finally how you plan on using it? The answer: a website proving to your supervising lecturer, that a fashion and style blog is much more than just posing for a picture and posting it for the adoration of your audience (although humbly appreciated).
This website, my virtual journal, was carefully constructed, mapped out first in my mind, then on paper, and finally online, became my baby. A baby I needed to nurture, love, dedicated time, energy and money into and when necessary, purge it of all pieces that no longer fit.
But I digress. (More talk about the blog in another post) The experience of college was, for lack of better descriptive adjectives, exceptionally ordinary. Granted, lifelong friendships were formed and memories were made. In between back-to-back classes, never-ending assessments, holidays spent making a little extra cash, heartbreaks and heartaches, through the laughs and tears, I have to admit was just as much everyday life hurdles I had to jump, college or not.
And when college came to an inevitable end, no red carpet rolled out to welcome us as graduates into the world, no soft music played in the background as we laughed and hugged and tears rolled down our cheeks in relief and happiness (none of which actually occurred). Instead we parted ways as friendly strangers, likely to bump into each other in some other continuum of our own busy lives. In the movies, college is a party, a never-ending party, and for them, when all is said done, they party even more. As fate would have it however, we were received with the dire question of “what’s the plan now that you’re done?”
For the first time in my life, I stay giving the honest true answer, “I don’t know, I’ll wing it…”
*school’s cool kids!