-Leeann Sausser is a junior English writing
and history major from Indianapolis.
CLARISSA ZINGRAFF / THE DEPAUW
My sister has to pick a college. As in, right now.
It’s DePauw or Miami, a classic Midwestern college debate. Both quality schools, both beautiful. We’ve all been there. And most of us know: she really can’t go wrong.
Yet she’s convinced that only one is “right.” Leading me to think, as I sit at the third wooden desk of my college career—Did I pick right?
I picked DePauw because of the size. I didn’t get a “feeling.” I wasn’t enamored with East College and tulips lining every walkway. I had no direction for my life and just hoped DePauw could get it for me.
When I stepped onto campus that first August day with my mini-fridge and unnecessary body pillow I wondered, “what have I gotten myself into?”
And that thought never went away.
Junior year sucks. We’re faced with the prospect of losing our senior best friends. “The last summer.” A copious amount of work that awaits us every morning when we roll out of twin beds into the dim light of today.
I feel like I’ve exhausted DePauw. The walk to academic quad is long and gray, the same buildings and trees every day. I see the same people. We talk about the same things. Weekends bring frats and free movies, dulled by repetition.
I think about my internships, my home, Indianapolis, and can’t help but wish for college to end faster. Not because I’m ready for 9-5 and business casual; because I’m tired.
Freshman year is the year of possibility. Senior year, reminiscing. But juniors? We’re stuck with the same old things. What we love about DePauw is clouded by one too many sightings of East College on a nice day.
Did I pick right?
DePauw took my 18-year-old brain and poked and pushed until I found myself enriched with critical thinking and words. My writing can be molded into something instead of just letters tossed onto a page. I utilize criticism to make my pieces richer and smoother.
I’ve learned about Java coding, bonobos, Athena, the apostle Paul, Muslim dating sites, "Common Sense," abolitionist Quakers, 18th century midwives, incarceration of black youth, Andrew Jackson, modern-day racism and fishing.
I’ve learned how to lead, and how to follow; how to speak, and how to listen. How to find friendship and how to accept it. How to make connections. How to break them.
Junior year is tough. We have all the possibilities of adulthood glistening in front of us but just out of reach. At 21, none of us have it together. We’re a bunch of campus cats, huddling against each other for support, watching the more experienced cats move on and the kittens turn to us to see how it’s done.
And gosh, I certainly don’t know how it’s done. I’m comparing students to cats.
I want to think that’s okay. I want to read this in a year, as I think about my last weeks of college, and laugh at my panic. I want to have no idea what’s next, but be okay with that. I want to be proud of my liberal arts education, and not exhausted by it. Will that happen?
It’s my attitude that decides. I can either finish out strong, falling in love with DePauw for the first time my last year. Or I can drag myself through, pulling graduation closer to me until it finally arrives.
It’s always the attitude. Deciding we like our college is what makes it right, not the college itself. That’s the beauty of my sister’s choice; no matter where she goes, she can love it, as long as she makes it her own.
The same goes for me. For all of us. As long as we decide we’re going to love it, and paint the campus over with a fresh coat every time it dulls, we can remember how much we’ve changed. How much we will change. And suddenly, everything’s new.
Did I pick right?
I think I did.