Deciding how to navigate the first days of college is a daunting task. Immediately upon arrival to the hill, Tufts freshmen are confronted by a vast, hazy expanse of people, possibilities, and unknowns. The proverbial “college experience,” awash with studies and social groups, is still a nebulous mental image. The choice to cut decisively through this uncertainty is a tempting one. But approaching questions like ‘which classes should I take?’ and ‘who should I hang out with?’ with immediate action risks bad decision-making and fails to acknowledge some inherent truths of college.
For one, the college path is rarely linear and seldom straightforward. While we students are each the primary driver in our experience, we are rarely as wise as we assume. Thus we rely on advisors, friends, and time, the most important of these factors, to guide us through this formative endeavor. Resisting the various twists and bends on this path with immediate, predetermined action causes friction and impedes the process itself.
An alternative to attempting to overdetermine—and potentially limit—our own experience is to act as a sponge in all arenas, humbly absorbing all that is possible before synthesis: an informed decision on how and with whom you would like to dedicate your time. This suggestion goes beyond mere social group formation. It applies to all kinds of life choices. In that regard, sponge behavior can become an ethic. It is a conscious choice that, if practiced, can govern all attitudes and decisions as we navigate college.
Here, too, is another exercise in caution. Although it is essential to take in as much as we can, there is simply too much to digest in our four short years on campus. This is epitomized in the rite of passage of one’s first club fair, the enlightening inaugural walk through the vast array of meaningful, idiosyncratic student groups. Endless possibilities await, and the potential to transform your college life in myriad ways is enticing. You may want to take up investing, join Cheese Club, and hone your chess skills while also writing for one of our school’s many great student papers. Maybe you succumb to a few persuasive tableside pitches and find yourself on mailing lists for student groups you could not have foreseen. Within a few weeks, you will find yourself in a deluge of welcome letters and GIMs, thrust into the necessity of reconciliation between spreading yourself thin and devoting real time to extracurriculars. Some activities inevitably get the boot; others remain.
Despite what it may seem, this is not a caution against the notorious club fair overindulgence and its eventual downscaling. In fact, it is quite the opposite. I advocate for the process, whose very nature forces us to synthesize a decision out of the abundance we’ve absorbed. And the filtering of extracurriculars may leave you with the least expected ones, leading to enriching uses of time that existed out of the realm of prediction. The sponge ethic shouldn’t lead to paralysis, indecision, and overstimulation, but instead a more grounded and secure answer to the question: How should I spend my time?
Just as the club fair presents stimuli in excess, so does entry into the campus’s vast social ecosystem. In your first few weeks on campus, the decision to be a sponge socially, academically, and otherwise is essentially a rejection of any limitation on your access to new possibilities. Absolutely befriend people in your orientation orbit, but don’t let that stop you from doing the same in your dorm. Take prerequisite courses for your major, but also push your academic boundaries with something unique and engaging. Ultimately, your openmindedness and sponge demeanor in your early college pursuits is something your future self will thank you for.
The immediate choice to settle with one’s initial group of friends is akin to visiting only one predetermined table at the club fair. Why turn a blind eye to all the other enthusiastic, vocal students welcoming visitors to their well-adorned tables, then GIMs, then weekly meetings? This is not to say we shouldn’t still visit the table that first piqued our interest or hang around those we first meet; those activities and connections can be enduring and incredibly valuable throughout our time in college. Instead, it is simply a recommendation to be a sponge, only wringing out the redundancies once you’ve given them all a chance.