Disoriented
First, some stuff for the freshmen…
Recently I received a complimentary issue of a particular student newspaper in the mail. On the front page was a large picture of a group of “incoming freshmen” sitting on the lawn in front of one of the university campus’ landmarks during freshman orientation. Since it wasn’t an official university photograph, no one in the picture was smiling, or even pretending to have fun. In a way, their collective expression of unhappiness seems like a conscious effort, as if to forewarn future freshmen that will be in their shoes, not just in the coming months, but also next year, and the year after that, and so forth. The realization that freshman orientation isn’t typically a pleasant experience does not take long to sink in; most universities open their orientation sessions (which often span two days) with a speech presented by a figurehead of the institution that no one in the room will recognize.
And the long, arduous speeches continue throughout the day. But is orientation as useless as many seem to think? Well, for some, it provides a safe opportunity to make friends and acquaintances before move-in day. On the flip side, this can be dangerous and potentially damaging to your freshman experience, because it’s hard to gauge who you will get along with and who you won’t within the span of a day or two. It’s kind of like the aforementioned move-in day, when you decide to meet everyone on your floor in the dorm. Sure, you may live next to someone who could eventually become your best friend at college, but what if the guy one door further down is a complete asshole? What if you and your roommate accidentally attract the attention of a pathological liar, or a narcissist who talks about him/herself for hours on end? You could be in for a rough living situation. If you and your orientation friends don’t end up in the same dorm building and if you’re not in the same major, you may not stay friends for very long. I myself made many “friends” at orientation, none of whom I kept in contact with once starting school.
On the other hand, freshman orientation is great real-world job experience, as it is basically the same thing as corporate teambuilding sessions (that is to say, no one wants to be there except for the people organizing it). How many icebreakers can one endure in one day? Why is time moving so slowly? Do I really care about the ice cream flavor of choice for the guy sitting next to me? Did I really pay money to be here?
…And now some stuff for everyone interested in me.
Thankfully, I had a much more pleasant experience with my transfer orientation last week than I did with my freshman orientation two years ago. Neither of my parents could come (just like last time), so I was dropped off in the morning and promptly started limping my way to the building I thought I was supposed to be in. I limped across a very long and empty corridor and met a man standing at the other side, who told me I was in the wrong building. Wah wah wahhhhh. Eventually I did reach the building where the festivities were being held after stalking following another student and her mother. I got my name tag and sat down in a very large lecture hall filled with other transfer students.
I noticed that almost no one in the room seemed to be talking to anyone else, unless they were with a friend they already knew or with their parents. It was a radical departure from the outgoing and eager nature many people displayed at my freshman orientation. I don’t think this is to be attributed to a collective shyness; rather, we all had the transfer student mindset, and were more cynical at the prospect of making friends at an orientation session. I decided that I would make an earnest attempt to become acquainted with at least one person. At first I was going to “cheat” and find someone else who attended Stevens Point, but I quickly realized this was futile. I think I may have been the only person from my school there that day. At our speaker’s urging, everyone in the lecture hall turned to their left or right and made awkward conversation with the person next to them. Mine went something like this (note: I don’t remember the guy’s name, so let’s call him “Kyle”):
Me: Hey, I’m Dave. What’s your name?
Kyle: I’m Kyle. I’m transferring from Marathon County.
Me: Marathon County? That’s pretty close to Stevens Point, where I’m coming from.
Kyle: Yep.
Me: So, I suppose you’re transferring because Marathon County is a two-year institution?
Kyle: Yep.
Me: That makes sense. It would be kind of bad to go through two years of schooling and just stop without a degree.
Kyle’s Mom: (Laughs)
Me: (Thinking to self) I’m glad my poor and awkward attempt at humor has actually induced laughter. Oh wait, she’s probably just humoring me.
While “Kyle” and I did have a nice “chat”, I feel there was an unspoken acceptance between us that we would never be friends. We were just two guys forced into a situation requiring cooperation. Such is the social networking selectiveness of a transfer student. After the speaker was finished, everyone was divided up according to the college they were planning to enter, and the colleges split off from each other. I personally rep the College of Letters and Science (what what!), so naturally I went with them. Further information on breadth requirements and registration followed, so let’s fast forward to the “free” lunch, two hours later. The “free” lunch was a much-hyped break from class registration. All of the orientation staff referred to it explicitly as the ”free lunch,” which leads me to believe there is a stipulation in their contract that says they must always include the word “free” before mentioning lunch. Still, this exchange took place between me and an orientation peer mentor:
Peer Mentor: We’re going to the free lunch in five minutes.
Me: So I guess there really is such a thing as a free lunch?
Peer Mentor: (Frowns) Well, actually, I think part of your orientation fee is for your lunch.
Me: …Oh.
Yes, I was all about the bad humor and corny jokes that day. Regardless, the “free” lunch offered another social opportunity to meet other transfer students in the same boat as me. At the very least, it offered an opportunity to eat lunch outside on a beautiful day. I aimlessly wandered around the area where everyone was eating and picked a random table to sit at. I sat down and realized that the guy next to me, like the first guy (Kyle), was from Marathon County. Small world. The girl across the table from me was from Waukesha, which is in the same part of Wisconsin as my hometown, so that provided some conversation fodder as well. I switched on my extrovert personality and moderated the discussion between the three of us, inadvertently leaving out another guy who was also sitting at the table. Eventually, an orientation staff member invited herself to our table and interrupted the conversation. I think her job was to moderate lunch table discussions, but I was already doing well with that, so she relinquished herself to mostly listening. Our conversation was fairly Wisconsin-orientated, and since she was from New York, we had to divert course to more general collegiate topics. Did I mention my sandwich was hard as a rock? I think I could have removed my own wisdom teeth if I had jammed the bread far enough into my mouth.
After lunch, I enrolled for my classes at precisely 1:00 pm, and a few signatures of approval later, I was sent on my marry way. I definitely appreciated the “cutbacks” the university applied to the transfer orientation program. To apply the mandatory bad analogy, it fit like a well-tailored suit. So what have I learned? Well, I learned that orientation isn’t painful as long as it is preceded by the word “transfer” instead of the word “freshman.” Also, I learned that transfer students are innately cynical, but that’s just our nature, as influenced by our environment and situation, unique to us as a group on campus. We rule.
Damn you, Achilles. I thought I could forget about ancient Greek legend after 8th grade, but alas…
