Urbandictionary.com – the unofficial authority on all abbreviated, bastardized and nonsensical expressions thought up by recent generations – defines senioritis as “a crippling disease,” citing “lack of studying, repeated absences and a generally dismissive attitude” alongside “an over-excessive wearing of track pants” as common symptoms. The only cure? Graduation.
During my last year of high school, senioritis was all the rage. It was the reason that Emily couldn’t complete her assignment, that Nick didn’t show up to class for two weeks and that Joey simply had to throw that party last weekend with half of the school (and later, half of the town’s police department) in attendance.
For high school seniors, senioritis is somewhat understandable, if not excusable. Having presumably been accepted to college, the pressure for stellar grades and scholarly conduct is suddenly alleviated, leaving an abundance of undirected energy and excitement in its stead. Indeed, the Urban Dictionary definition of the term explicitly states that only those graduating high school are susceptible to senioritis. However, in recent weeks I have witnessed a resurgence of the word as members of the Class of 2014 use this academic pandemic to describe their own struggles in their last year here at Conn.
Though I can sympathize with the hindrance to motivation and work ethic that my fellow seniors face, I think that this sensation is a far cry, both in cause and effect, from high school senioritis. As mentioned before, high school seniors are lax about their academics because, for the next few years, their futures are secure; as a college senior, my future is anything but. Aside from a few fortunate financiers and others seeking employment in industries with wide hiring horizons, for the Class of 2014, the future holds uncertainty.
I believe that this uncertainty, as opposed to security, is the root cause of the collegiate strain of senioritis. Most of us don’t know what we’ll be doing and where we’ll be doing it one year from now, and the endlessness of the possibilities seems daunting. I often find myself weighing these possibilities as if they were options, wondering if I would rather join an artists’ residency in Europe or work at an advertising agency in New York, before remembering that, as of now, I have no such opportunities available to me. Even more practical steps towards employment (like a job application due three months from now) become distractions from more pressing schoolwork (like the paper I have due next week).
Furthermore, with so many “real world” issues ahead of me, I’m finding myself considering each assignment I’ve been given this year with more skepticism. I don’t ask myself how I’m going to finish a ten-page paper in three days, or where I’m going to find resources for an obscure research topic – as a senior, I like to think that I’m pretty good at navigating the logistics of an assignment. Rather, I find myself wondering why I’m doing an assignment, and adjusting my approach based on whether my future will directly benefit from the outcome of that specific task, or whether I just need the grade on my transcript. Four years is a long time to be in college, and two decades is a long time to be immersed in education; I can’t (perhaps won’t) look at each assignment with the same, unquestioning level of commitment as the one before. A true scholar might find unwavering motivation in each academic pursuit, but I am not that student, and I’d wager that many of my fellow seniors feel the same.
With one foot out the door of this place – and the other firmly planted on the threshold – my perspective has shifted monumentally in order to accommodate the decisions and experiences that I will encounter in the “grand scheme” of my life, of which the last four years will become only a fragment. Individual tasks may suffer at the expense of this larger consideration of what is important to me, but so what? In college, failure means a letter on a piece of paper; out there, it means unemployment, homelessness, loneliness and a whole host of unappealing prospects.
I’m not saying to stop trying, and I’m certainly not saying to start trying to fail. I just think that – as opposed to the thoughtlessness of high school senioritis – college seniors are faced with life decisions that are sometimes worth contemplating with philosophical, borderline cheesy intensity. For the rest of our lives we’ll be weighing options and evaluating the outcomes of decisions that cannot be summed up in a single letter grade. So I’m practicing now, here, while the stakes are low.
