When I was getting ready to go to college four years ago, I thought I had it all figured out. With AP credits, I could have my degree in less than four years. I’d have internships every summer, tons of experience and a job offer before I crossed the stage.
I remember when my parents left me in my room at Graham Hall with my life in boxes. It felt like the moment just after you’ve made it to the top of a roller coaster — you know all hell is going to break loose, but you’ll step off at the end unscathed.
Four years later, I realize that college has been more like walking up stairs in the dark. At the end, you take that one extra step you thought was there, only to realize with sheer terror, there isn’t one.
After I graduate, I’ll be staying here working the same part-time job that kept me afloat the past few years. I didn’t get those internships. And while half of me wants to sink into full-blown quarter-life crisis mode, the rest is slowly realizing that it’s all fine.
Throughout our lives, we’re forced into the next step constantly. Every single action we take is meant for some ultimate end. In school, it’s usually college, and in college, the goal is usually a job. Society constantly puts pressure on us all to follow this rigid roadmap for success. If you don’t, you just won’t make it.
But maybe there’s more to pressure than deadlines. Maybe success isn’t measured in material accomplishments but by how wide your smile is at the end of the day.
I’ve always thought that having balance was the most important thing in life. Four years of college has only reinforced that belief.
It’s important to finish everything you need to. It’s important to work, to practice and to perfect. But it’s just as important to play, to relax and to appreciate what you’ve done. Some people think that puts you behind. But in the end, you’ll be far, far ahead.
No, I’m not graduating with an amazing journalism job in D.C. — not even one in Gainesville. For the past few months, I’ve been asking myself if this means four years of my life have gone down the drain.
I could have gone to a number of colleges all over the country and studied anything I wanted. But coming to UF and studying journalism was the greatest decision I ever made.
Over everything, it taught me that you are the only person who knows if you’re on the right path. Everyone tries to dictate what the right way to go is. But everyone has different circumstances, and no one is more qualified to tell you what you should be doing than yourself.
I don’t know what happens next. I do know that these past four years have prepared me for anything. No one makes it out of life alive, so the best thing to do is to stop taking it so seriously.
After I graduate, I will be happy.
[Justin Jones is a UF journalism senior. His columns appeared on Thursdays this semester. A version of this column ran on page 7 on 4/22/2014 under the headline "Senior reality check: College is like walking upstairs in the dark"]
