Listening becomes difficult once campus life resumes and the adjective ‘college student’ overpowers any other words that can begin to describe who I am during ¾ of the year. What I mean to say is when the fall classes start, so do the complaints, and I can stand to listen to the complaining for maybe a second. Then my head explodes.
A complaint is not a criticism. It offers no potential solution from the complainer to adjust any displeasure. It does not incite a second party to discuss and formulate a solution to a problem. Instead, complaints are abruptly presented, sometimes vulgar or harsh, and responses either further the depth of the complaint, or shoot it down completely with a mix of humor and annoyance. And that is something college students love to do (or so I’ve come to understand).
College students love, love, love to complain. They enjoy expressing their woes of vigilantly working late into the night, ignoring drooping eyelids and feigning consciousness. They love to complain about their struggles with the faculty. They complain about a ‘B’ average or a weekend with nothing to do but drink and play videogames. “I’ve got three exams this week and a ten page paper due tomorrow morning. I haven’t studied at all and I got as far as the second page of the paper last night with the help of Red Bull and Adderall. Life sucks.” Well, yes it does, for someone who can afford to attend college, live with peers you call friends, keep busy, and prepare for a money-making career (if the economy isn’t in the toilet by graduation).
Now I realize I sound like I’m complaining. Maybe I am. In fact, I’m complaining about complaining and I apologize. But everyone complains from time to time, and it’s OK to take in small doses. I guess it can be seen as a way to commiserate with others who may feel similar woes.
So let me bring to light a complaint I’ve had that I’m sure most students and ex-students have shared. I hate the question, “What are you doing this summer?”
Everyone asks this question with positive or caring sentiments. Friends and family are curious with the life of a budding student and they wish to stay abreast of all the classes, internships, and beer pong the student experiences. For those sentiments, I am grateful knowing, at the very least, someone is interested in my life.
But it’s a hard question to respond to. Besides the repetition of reciting the same few answers again and again, there exists some unspoken pressure to sound interesting. If your summer isn’t up to par with the rest of the students’, you’re S.O.L. No internship? No summer job? No exotic vacation? Sorry dude. Good luck finding a job!
As I sit here writing this article, with no obvious prospect of summer employment or an extravagant way to occupy my time, I realize it’s not so bad. Why should I get a sympathetic ‘sorry’ for an open summer? Do I constantly need a rapid intake of work to feel productive? Of course not!
Though I’m not getting paid, I still work for myself. I write, play music, attempt to cook, mow a lawn here or there, keep busy with friends, attend weddings; the list goes on. It’s not obvious experience for career building like an internship or a job with a steady income, but it keeps my mind healthy. I get to tune the skills that keep me excited and open to other possibilities. I’m only bored if I choose to be. Not all work consists of text books and pay checks. If I view any work as worthy of my time, it is worthy of my time.
