When I first started packing for college, I convinced myself that I would bring only necessary items. But shopping trips to get, say, bedsheets turned into caravans bringing home bags of gold, magic lamps, and myrrh. So, needless to say, when I started bringing down the lamp, the comforter, the pillow, and my two treasured posters (The Muppets and Abbey Road) wrapped up in a gift wrap tube, and then piled on top of them the stuff I need just on a daily basis, I had the slightest suspicion that getting these items to Austin and up to the third floor of my building would be an adventure.
It really wasn’t. It took about ten trips to get the baskets and bags and boxes up to my dorm, but here, eight hours later, everything is assembled and actually somewhat stylish. I really can’t do style. I’m too fond of bright colors and strange looking things and feathers and things-that-match-some-things-but-nothing-else, even though I spent my middle school years watching HGTV episodes, to the point where I knew which episodes were new and which episodes were reruns. I lived for Design on a Dime.
But then the concept of money started barreling down on me. College itself is quite expensive, especially without scholarships. And while I don’t like the idea of working through high school with the singular goal of attracting colleges and partaking of their financial bounty — because honestly? I loved learning in high school, and I know that’s what will saturate my college experience. I don’t understand people who study Business simply because they think they’ll become rich and successful because of it, without having any passion for the subject. There is so much more to education than grades and status, but that alone determines so much of the especially critical years to come.
Adding a price tag to everything changed my perception of learning. Now, I can only learn what I can afford, which is an interesting but damning concept. For example, now I can’t take beginner violin classes (I’d have to buy/rent a violin in addition to the class) or dancing classes (I have no natural talent for dancing. I weaseled my way into a ballet, tap, and jazz class when I was 6 and weaseled my way out again when it was most convenient for me. Now, I desperately miss that I didn’t continue that.) because everything has a price, and with this mortgage and that insurance payment, everything starts to become unattainable.
Why do we put such a price on our education, and by extension, on our music? On the things that are inanimate, incorporeal, and yet so important a foundation for our people? I suppose just knowing that the years ahead of me will be satisfying, deep, and beautiful ought to be enough for me to stop worrying about what I’m paying, about how much money I have. But money is always so present an issue in my mind, that even when doing the things I love, I can’t keep it away. That, I suppose, is the true burden of our modern society.
Read 3 comments (Leave a comment?)
Jim Whimpey said:
Couldn’t agree more.
When I arrived at Mount Royal with a single traveller’s backpack the RAs couldn’t believe it was all I had. What I couldn’t believe was how easy it was to live with so few possessions.
Posted on August 24, 2008 3:12 AM; Permalink
Ranjani
said:
I wish I’d done that, but I have this fascination for school supplies, so that’s half of what I bought. I SPEND TOO MUCH MONEY @_@
Posted on August 24, 2008 10:43 AM; Permalink
Jorge Quinteros said:
I couldn’t have described my experience in college any better. Even now, I continue to pay off my loan and to make matters worse, I currently not employed for what I studied for, which is not to say that I haven’t been successful in the career path that I chose.
Yes, in the end we do end of spending a lot of money for this college experience that suppose to mold our future and even though plans may not develop as anticipated, it’s those exact experience alone that may serve as a framework for your life. Assuming you make the right choices.
Posted on August 24, 2008 6:59 PM; Permalink