The Things You Should Do

No other Ivy League school comes with a tagline—let alone one as loaded as ours: we are Columbia University, in the City of New York. It is as if we are being told, in the most up-front way, that we as Columbia students are not just attending a university, but serving as citizens of the largest (and best) city in the country. But there’s a problem. “Columbia University” (our title, part 1) is one thing; “in the City of New York” (our title, part 2) is quite another. And trying to take advantage of both the academic education we are in the midst of, and the education this city can provide, leaves us in an overwhelming situation.

No one comes to Columbia without having at least a little crush on the city—we want to take advantage of everything here we can. And while this sort of pressure can be exactly what some students need to find the motivation to get off campus, for me, it led to stress—starting with NSOP. Here I was, rolling out of bed at 1 p.m, day after day, and this voice in my head wouldn’t stop yelling at me about all the things I “should” do now that I was a real New York resident—I should go spend a day being enlightened at the Met, I should have a huge picnic with all my friends in the park, I should go explore the other boroughs. Try as I might to remind myself I had four years (at the very least) to do all of these things, the voice would not go away.

But it didn’t get better after NSOP—I was suddenly surrounded by thousands of upperclassmen who each seemed to have found the single most brilliant thing to do in the city. With every story of an internship, or a restaurant outing, or a spontaneous late night trek to Coney Island, or a favorite off-campus coffee shop, something got added to my running “should-do” list and something in me felt a little lame for not having had these experiences myself. I never expected to have an internship freshman year, but it suddenly seemed like something I had to do. And as I tried to figure out what mine would be, I was struck when I remembered how students at nearly every other college don’t have the opportunity to have internships at amazing companies during the academic year.

Realizing this contributed to my frenzied guilt over not taking better advantage of everything New York has to offer and also made me a little jealous—they can’t do it. No choice. No pressure. “They” didn’t have to feel like they were missing out on some opportunity if they decided to spend a day hanging around the dorm, watching DVD’s and wearing sweatpants (as occurs in my clichéd image of every “collegey” college).

But not here. Here I am angry with myself if I don’t fill every moment. One homework-free day I journeyed down to the Museum of Modern Art, telling myself it would be an enlightening, intellectual thing to do with my day—not to mention something to check off that “should-do” list. When I came home and found half of my floor crammed in the lounge watching and cracking up over Oprah’s teenage-pregnancy special, I was pretty disappointed I had missed that experience. And I began to realize that the MoMA (and all of New York for that matter) will be there for my enjoyment for decades after my fleeting four years at Columbia have come to a close. Watching daytime TV with my freshman-year floor is a rare experience. It may not be as sophisticated as an afternoon at a museum, but it is nevertheless a legitimate activity for a college student. I had a more educational experience at MoMA that day, but, in that moment, I knew I would have been happier had I been stuffed into a tiny lounge watching Oprah.

We as Columbia students are involved in a unique balancing act. New York is wonderful and has endless things to offer. However, whether the powers-that-be want us to acknowledge it or not, we are first and foremost college students like any others. New York City, enriching as it is, is not what we are here to “do”. What makes the Columbia student experience so unique and wonderful is that, unlike at most schools, when we are in need of inspiration, primary resources, or a new social scene, we have New York City at our fingertips—we are not stuck on a campus. I am not trying to refute the co-educational opportunities the city offers. If feeling pressure to be a New Yorker over being a college student gets in the way of us doing what makes us happy moment to moment, there is a problem. And let’s be realistic—though the one reason we all chose to come to Columbia and were able to get ourselves here is that we value a rigorous education and put pressure on ourselves to take advantage of every opportunity that comes our way, there are moments when sleeping all day, not leaving campus for a week, or watching Oprah, just like they might do at any other school, is the right thing to do.

Ariel Hudes is a Columbia College first-year. Undeclared runs alternate Fridays. Opinion@columbiaspectator.com