College: to gather together

In the past couple of weeks, columnists Rich Daker and Susannah Sharpless have both presented us, in their own ways, a vision of what a college education — a Princeton education in particular — is all about. Daker questions the pragmatic view of many in his hometown of higher education as a means to get better paying employment, ultimately deciding that his degree is about the future opportunities it affords. On the other hand, Sharpless introduces the concept of “inner work,” wherein college becomes a process of self-exploration and growth.

While both of these visions have merit, they both fail to fully encapsulate what these four years are all about, at least in the eyes of someone who’s nearing the end of his time here. Cliche as it may sound — and much to Sharpless’s chagrin — the people you meet while in college are crucially important to what it all means.

Sharpless’s assertion that college is a time of personal growth is valid; I doubt that any of my senior peers could say that they haven’t changed immensely over the past three and a half years. But, unquestionably, other students and the social groups that they constitute have been radically important in that growth. I can say with utmost confidence that, really, we are here to make friends. Many years from now, we won’t remember the classes we took or the papers we wrote, but we will definitely remember the people who were most important to us while at Princeton. Humans are the greatest catalysts for change in other humans; we can’t understate that fact.

Speaking more broadly, growth, however it is achieved, is by no means the full extent of what college, or Princeton, is all about. Individual growth can be sought and achieved in many walks of life, most of which don’t bear a $228,000 price tag. To merit the cost of a college education, in both time and money, it must be about more than just self-improvement. In this respect, Daker draws nearer to the point in his thoughtful analysis of the American Dream.

Throughout his column, Daker adopts the notion that “success,” at least in the eyes of his community, is monetarily defined. For them, “unbounded financial success” is what a Princeton education ought to be all about. But, having had what some might call a fine liberal arts education, I have determined that success has several manifestations. Relationship success, social success, occupational fulfillment, community impact: All of these more ethereal forms of success are nonetheless important. Although significantly less quantifiable than financial success, these others likely hold the lion’s share of importance as far as self-satisfaction goes.

Unfortunately, I have also come to realize that Princeton — and college in general — isn’t really meant to help us be successful in these other ways. It does nothing more than open doors to future opportunities that might yield these successful outcomes. But our degree, standing alone, is by no means a guarantee to any further success. So, sorry for those who thought that getting into Princeton makes you “set for life,” as Daker puts it. Our time at Princeton is really just another tool in our toolbox — admittedly, a majorly consequential one — in our journey through life.

This brings us to my personal take on the “point of college,” which is not to worry about the “point of college.” College, at its core, is about getting a piece of paper to convince people you don’t know to let you do stuff that you want to do. Coming from Princeton, it just happens that our piece of paper is more persuasive than those of most. You need not worry or fret about amassing large sums of wealth or realizing the true nature of your inner character. The former will take care of itself in time if you want it to and the latter, well, good luck with that.

But, just as you wouldn’t just want the core of an apple, you ought to want more from your four years in college than just a degree. We may not know exactly why we’re here — we’re only 20 years old for crying out loud — but we do know what we have here: a group of people who are smarter, more driven and more accomplished than any we will likely be a part of ever again. So rather than focusing on the future and what may or may not happen or whether we may or may not be successful by some other’s definition, think about the unique experience that is open to you for a limited time only. When you think about it that way, you’ll find that the greater meaning of your four years here lies in the present and in the people with whom you share it.