Finding a Spot at Columbia

The Class of 2008 has now been on campus for over a month, and
we’re starting to pass some major milestones in our Columbia
lives.

I went to Butler yesterday, and I’m not going to lie: I
passed my first all-dayer. It’s like an all-nighter, except
you give up your life instead of your sleep. (In the time I was
there, someone came, left, took a train to Jersey for dinner, took
the train back, came back to the library, and I was still there
when he left for bed.) For two excellent reasons, this was a
landmark moment.

Reason number one: the first time I visited Butler, I’ll
admit I was a little intimidated. I walked in and was like,
“Where’s the library? I don’t know where to
sit.”

So I didn’t. Instead, I bought some coffee and headed back
out the door. On my next venture, I took a friend with me. He
showed me “his spot.” I pulled up a chair and settled
next to him. A few days later, when I went on my own, I pulled my
chair right up to the same spot, settled in, and did my work. I
claimed the spot. I now officially have a “spot” in
Butler library.

Is it weird that claiming my spot in Butler makes me feel more
“Columbian” than knowing where Hamilton is (which I now
do), or wearing the Columbia sweatshirt (which I now have), or
singing the fight song (which I now almost know)? In fact, I am
feeling less like a first-year all the time. I sport the Columbia
gear, I do the Columbia work, I walk the Columbia walk. Okay, so I
still get lost occasionally on my way home through Central Park
(It’s harder than it sounds, okay?). I no longer wear the
fine green New Student Orientation Program badge, but I have been
known to pull out my old high school jacket or class ring.

My only qualm is this: is it necessary that we have to declare
ourselves as “first-years” every time we use our meal
points? Am I the only one who finds this outrageous? Picture this
scenario: I’m running late to my first class of the day, too
late for John Jay. I head over for a quick bagel and some coffee at
Cafe (212) (which I still call “two-twelve,” and will
continue calling “two-twelve” despite constant laughs).
I’m going through the line, standing next to people I
don’t know, and as I hand over my card and they are ringing
it up, the transaction goes wrong. “First-year or Dining
Dollars?” the cashier asks, for all to hear. “Oh,
first-year,” I say, loud enough to make it over the counter.
I feel like the entire room stops, turns around, and looks at me as
these words come out of my mouth—this horrible vision of a
slow-motion, deep-voiced
“fffffiiirrrssttttt-yyyeeaarrrrrrrr.” Now, obviously I
can’t sit down; frankly, I don’t even know if
I’ll be able to put sugar in my coffee or toast the bagel. I
am out of there as soon as I can get around the railing and push
open the door outside.

But suddenly my day was redeemed: on my way out of Lerner, I was
stopped by an upperclassman in a hooded sweatshirt. He introduced
me to a program that, I feel safe to say, might be my favorite on
campus—showing pre-frosh around campus. When all seems lost,
and you feel like you will never escape this life of
first-year-dom, then come the pre-frosh! Someone lower on the scale
of social hierarchy than we are! For a visual, here are the
first-years (hand at knees), and here are the pre-frosh (hand
scraping the ground).

I gave up a few hours of my life the next day entertaining them,
giving them a tour of the campus and “Morningside
Heights”—which I think they might have known better
than I do. (Have they memorized the Columbia Web site?) On a side
note, how funny is it that pre-frosh are paired with first years,
who have been here for all of four weeks, and know close to nothing
and nobody at Columbia. I just found my spot at Butler. I
don’t even feel qualified to call the West End “The
’Stend” yet. And here they are asking me about my
major, my feelings on the “academic atmosphere” at the
University, and the name and history of every building we pass. I
could lie, but mostly I just laugh. Silly pre-frosh.

So I have two brief pieces of advice for you fellow members of
the Class of 2008: first, have a pre-frosh stay with you—it
gives a refreshing dose of confidence. And second, get yourself
over to Butler and claim a “spot” for yourself.

Kristin Francoz is a Columbia College first-year.