Nestled in the evergreen woods of Franconia Notch State Park, New Hampshire, past the visitor’s center and the uphill boardwalk through The Flume, is an attraction known as “Wolf’s Den.” The narrow climbing space drops about 10 degrees cooler compared to the outside air, as it is enclosed by damp boulders and infrequently exposed to the sun. As my family and I, vacationing near these woods, walked toward the den, at least three other families turned back. Whatever we were approaching would surely be arduous or frightening enough to make them turn around, we thought. But we persevered.
The tunnel brought us to our knees as the rocks squeezed closer together. Our crawl was brief, and we could see the light at the end of the tunnel. But once we neared the hole to the outside world, we realized our work had just begun. Climbers ahead of us had difficulty squeezing their bodies through the six-inch-wide gap to the surface and had to elicit help from the small children who’d already easily passed through.
My brother somehow managed to pop his head into the daylight. Then, using brute force, he pummeled himself the rest of the way, a wide-set guy making the passage nimbly. It was finally my turn. I knew in the back of my mind I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to make it through as easily, or at all. I’d be forced to ask for help or even turn around. But I took a deep breath, angled myself just so and wiggled out like a wolf (I guess wolves wiggle? I don’t really know how they move in such a tight space).
What I’m trying to say, in my convoluted and metaphorical way, is college is a lot like the Wolf’s Den. At first it may seem scary, like a hole with only a pinprick of light at the end, and that pressure can cause a lot of people to turn around or drop out. It may appear like other people can easily traverse the confines of college, like my brother mastering the den without a sweat, but looks are deceiving, and other people may be having just as hard a time. If you push past the fear, face it head on and at the right angle (with the right perspective), then you too can navigate the treacherous rocks.
In my first year of college at UF, I fainted in my most difficult class, cried on the phone to my parents more times than I’d like to admit, went about the whole finding-my-purpose-in-life thing at the wrong angle and was too afraid to ask for help. But I also (finally) decided on a major and career path, made new friends, learned to seek help before I needed it most and figured out that my health and happiness are more important than a 12-page paper on the history of birth control (I hope you never go through the same torture). During my time as your friendly neighborhood opinions writer, I’d like to help each and every one of you figure out, like I did, that no matter how scary, unending, pressure-filled, anxiety-inducing or claustrophobic the wolf’s den that is college may seem, there is always a light at the end of the tunnel. Sometimes, you just have to wiggle your way through like a wolf.
Emma Green is a former Alligator photo editor. Her column appears on Thursdays.
