As of Tuesday, the seventh of May, at the hour of three thirty-two PM, (more commonly referred to as the moment I finished my music history final - the last final of the semester) - I have been a free human.
Or at the very least, a free human until my summer classes begin...
Free from the papers, free from the constant worries, and free from having to do my own dishes and my own laundry. It’s finally summertime - the time to relax, have fun, and prepare for next set of midterms and finals and stress-inducing work that the university system has blessed among us all. As the song in High School Musical 2 goes, it’s our vacation!
College is (obviously) not easy. At times it gives me the desire to curl up into a ball and wish I could be a first grader again - learning how to spell words like "balloon" and "frog", and having a whole period dedicated to eating snacks and taking naps.
College requires "adult-ing" to a much larger extent - having to worry about buying things like laundry detergent and light bulbs, and facing the harsh reality of being your own person. It's a weird balance between freedom and responsibility that is ultimately up to you to weigh out. It’s kind of like a double-edged sword… or, I guess rather, a triple-edged triangle-shaped sword - each edge labeled with 1 - sleep 2 - social life, and 3 - studying.
The greatest part of this almighty, all-knowing sword is that you only get to properly acquire two out of the three at all times.
Beyond laundry, dishes, schoolwork, and finding the time to be social, among other things, college can also be a pretty incredible thing. It’s a place where many first times (and last times) are experienced, it’s a place where you meet unfamiliar faces (or perhaps connect with old, familiar ones), and it’s a place where you make mistakes (rightfully so) and take those mistakes and learn from them.
This semester, I transferred my studies overseas from the American University of Paris to the University of Southern California. I’m still in awe at the fact that I was (and am) given the opportunity to attend such amazing schools - I could honestly cry just thinking about Paris, and sometimes I just stop in my tracks to peer over at the School of Cinematic Arts and admire its beauty.
Not only does my current university appear to be beautiful, but the classes, professors, and students it contains are just as so (if not more). For the past three months, I have taken courses ranging from humanities and history all the way to an introductory film course and a lecture solely dedicated to hip-hop music. Although learning generally comes from the classroom, the experiences I have had outside of the classroom have given me lessons that will stick with me forever.
These are not the lessons you can simply create a set of on Quizlet, memorize for a test, and forget immediately after throwing your Blue Book in the turn-in-bin. These are the lessons you learn by doing. And these are the lessons I learned this semester.
This semester taught me that rejection does not have to be bad all the time - that it is completely okay to get rejected, and further, how to handle that rejection in the most proper of ways. My senior year, I applied to, and got rejected from the two schools I convinced myself to be the only two universities I saw myself at. After wiping the tears of the "what could've beens" and "what ifs", I chose to handle my rejections by living and studying in Paris for a year - and I would NOT have had my first year of college any other way.
I would never trade the opportunities, experiences, and friendships those two rejections gave me for the world; I have grown incredible amounts as a person both mentally and physically (mainly mentally though - I’ve been 5’4 for a few years now). Those two rejections gave me the year of a lifetime that helped me discover my passions, my people, and my preferences. Those two rejections gave me some interesting stories to tell, and most of all, those two rejections gave me the actual school I belong to.
This semester taught me that speaking up is not as hard as it appears to be.Asking is a very important thing to do, whether you think you already know the answer, whether you are just curious, or whether you would like to or not. Not only has the simple act of speaking up and asking a question presented me with some incredible opportunities, but also some incredible individuals.
Don’t be afraid to talk to someone and tell them you think they’re cool - because chances are, they probably think the same of you. We live in a day in age where something as seemingly simple as talking to someone can be an oh-so “awkward” task to do; in reality, it is completely a-okay.
With this being said, don’t be afraid to speak up when you think something is wrong, or alternatively, don’t be afraid to speak up when you know you are right. The art of speaking up is almost paradoxical - it’s something that is so little yet so many people (including myself) fear it, but the results can be some of the greatest blessings ever. The art of speaking up has presented me with some talented and unique friends, and the art of speaking up has broken me out of my anxiety-ridden shell.
This semester taught me that I’m actually kind of a cool person, and there are other people out there who are kind-of-cool-people, too.
In a school with thousands and thousands of people in a city with many more multiple thousands of people, it is crazy to me how paths cross and people connect. In the past three months, I have created certain friendships with certain people that I am eternally grateful for. I have met people who are like me, and people who aren’t like me. And whether they are like me or not, they accept me for me (as I do for them).
I have met people who are willing to listen to a story-telling Tatum that goes on twenty tangents every other sentence of whatever story is trying to be told.
I have met people who, to appreciate the sound of the static-ey scratch as the needle glides against the vinyl, and I have met people who also know the words to pretty much any Billboard hit between 2007 and 2010, Kanye, or Eminem song. I have met people who accept me and my a-little-too dry sense humor that most no one understands, and I have met people who I intend on keeping in my life - for the rest of my life.
This semester taught me not to care.
Not in the instance of, like, not caring about deadlines or work or school or life (these are things you should have at least the slightest bit of care for), but more-so not caring what the rest of the world thinks. Once you learn not to care about other people’s opinions of you, everything gets so much better. There is only one person whose opinion matters, and that is you.
Do what you want, say what you want, and be who you want - there is no one holding you back but yourself. Not caring has led me to become a much more confident person, and not caring has changed my perspective on several things (for the better). Not caring may seem like a counter-intuitive term, but not caring is one of the most important things one can "not do”.
Overall, this semester taught me that everything truly does happen for a reason. That the short-lived sadness of getting rejected does not amount to the long-term joy it will eventually bring. That speaking up, as much as it can be both a hard and terrifying thing to do, has its rewards of friendships and fairytales, and that in a world with millions of people, it still is possible to find your people. This semester taught me not to care - that nothing really has meaning aside from the meaning you give it - and most importantly, this semester taught me that I belong.
Never in a million years did I think I would have ended up at such a magnificent school with even better people. If you would have asked senior-year-stressed-out Tatum if she saw herself attending a random school in Paris, and a not-as-random school in Los Angeles - she would have laughed in your face. (She also probably would have paid more attention in her French classes).
Anywho, that’s the beauty of life - that it is unpredictable.
No matter how hard we try to put things together for ourselves, the puzzle that is "life" has it’s weird ways of piecing itself together.
What did this semester teach you?
