I just took a look at the production schedule that I was e-mailed all those months ago and realised that this is my last column. I thought by now I’d have a repertoire of deeply insightful columns that had truly shaped the essence of the Wesleyan community. That’s life for you.
Each morning as I awake to the thundering collection of trash by the wonderfully named “Dainty Rubbish Collection Service,” I take a moment to laugh at my poor unfortunate classmates still in Ireland undertaking work experience. I e-mail them regularly to remind them how much fun I’m having, just in case their intense jealousy dwindles. I’m in my junior year there, which we originally call “third year” and my course is a B.Sc. “Physics with Astronomy.” For the second semester of third year and the subsequent summer, students have to undertake paid work experience as part of their degree.
There are only seven of us in my degree course and it was a horrifying struggle to find paid placements for the work experience portion of the degree. So much so, that two students are working in “Meteor,” a telecommunications company in Ireland whose only relation to astronomy is the fact that it’s called “Meteor.” So the issue that I kept struggling with, (and tried to ignore as I studied for exams and wrote papers) was, if there aren’t any companies out there for a few months’ work experience, what am I supposed to do when I actually need a real job?
When I was trying to decide on a course, I was bombarded with piles of leaflets and brochures outlining the many opportunities available to Physics graduates. I even had one entitled “101 jobs for Physicists,” which I happily flashed out whenever questioned about what physics is. I can pretend to myself that I didn’t realise the field was so narrow but I knew. That’s why in my second year I locked myself inside, motivated by the Wesleyan dream, this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to flee the wee island and hit Stateside. That came to fruition and so I have once more delayed the inevitable reality of finding a job. My classmates now know what it’s like to work a nine-to-five job. I’ve heard the stories of a monotonous existence. I’ve seen how people wake up in the morning and dread what lies ahead. I’m just not ready to live that, and had to come 4971 kilometers to evade it. I can’t think of a better place for procrastination.
In Ireland and most European colleges and universities, there is no choice of courses to take and you can’t decide on your major later. You decide on your major at age 16 or 17. Straight from high school you choose your degree and that’s it. Don’t like it after a year? Tough. Changing your mind means going back to year one and starting again. There are no classes unrelated to your major. And that’s just fine, if you have only one dimension of personality. Here you can do literally anything you want. If there is anybody out there who has stayed focused on his or her major, I urge you to try something new that you won’t get a chance to again. At best you expand the breadth of your knowledge and become a more rounded individual, at worst you gain a deeper love for your chosen major.
After watching a few episodes of “Saved by the Bell: The College Years,” I felt ready to immerse myself in America. Coming to the United States is like stepping into the future. I can (and do) spoil all movie plots that won’t be released for a few months in Ireland. I can foretell what electronic gadgets will be “all the rage” this Christmas. I know what kids will be playing in schools, I know that Ryan is NOT the father of Theresa’s baby, even though she’s not even pregnant yet at home.
There may as well have been a neon sign around my head flashing the words “Spot the European” whenever I’m typing in the computer labs. Typing “my favourite colour” in Word resulted in blinding me with a plethora of red zigzags. Even the paper clip office assistant seemed to mock me as his detached eyebrows rose higher and higher in disbelief at my inability to spell. Does he not recognise a European when he sees one? I’ve since adapted and my efficiency has increased by almost 17 percent by omitting the “u” in honour. Now that’s time management.
But as soon as I return I will be bombarded with the ever-famous question “So, what will you do next year?” Do I have to know exactly what lies ahead? Can’t we just see what happens and go with the flow? My response now: “What are you doing next year?” As pointed out by the director of the Career Resource Center recently, we don’t have to choose today from which job we are going to retire. That job hasn’t even been invented yet. Whatever I choose to do is simply a means to somewhere else. If you find yourself stuck in a dead end job, quit! Nothing is concrete.
Soon I will have to trade in my “greenbacks” for “yoyos” and wave goodbye to the feelings of wealth that accompany a large wad of notes worth less than $13. My cell phone will revert back to being my mobile phone. Dunnes Stores will replace Walmart. Wesleyan University will fade to Dublin City University. The Raven will replace the Cardinal, I’ll resume my position on the Gaelic football team and all will be well. Wesleyan University has not only given me amazing memories but a new outlook on life as I return to Ireland.
Fear not, my Wesleyan comrades, life will go on here without me. You may struggle at first, but I assure you, it’ll be OK. To the legend that is Tsampikos: “I didn’t done anything different. You are killing me!”
It’s been awesome; you guys are swell. Peace!
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