Until sophomore year, I loved the summer.
Summer was freedom. For 10 weeks, I could finally say goodbye to Blackbaud and my 7 a.m. alarm. No more late nights and early mornings.
Summer was heaven on earth. But now, those summers are long gone.
As I climbed my way up to junior year, I started hearing more and more of the same words. Resumés. Extra-curriculars. Summer obligations.
The first time I heard the oxymoron, my heart skipped several beats. And not in a good way.
Summer obligations? There are obligations besides getting ice cream with friends? Travelling the world with my family? Staying up all night on FaceTime until I hear my dad go out on his morning run?
Unfortunately, colleges (and my parents) see my three-month-long respite as an opportunity to further my education and learn invaluable experiences. And I somewhat agree. Summer shouldn’t be wasted lounging around and staring at my phone.
But most of the time, these extra-curricular activities are done for the wrong reasons. It’s normalized now: pressing the enter key on your resume to add an activity you did just for the sake of it.
Facing the insurmountable obstacle that is college applications, I’m intimidated by what I see and hear from other students. From how my mom puts it, they’re raising millions to cure cancer, and I’m struggling to get an A in my classes.
A month ago, it was 10 below freezing, and I was playing with snow in my backyard.
Also a month ago, I was already planning out my entire summer, highlighting large chunks of days on my calendar several months before they would be relevant or timely. But the calendar is annotated on each of the 12 pages. The other breaks—Thanksgiving, winter, spring—they’re all gone. Hearing variations of the same information while touring colleges has stolen all of my breaks during the school year.
As I quickly transition to my senior year, I notice that there’s so much to do. And it’s so much that I realize I have so little. So I sit at my desk and fill out these seemingly endless applications, fueled by both duty and shame.
And though my summer break last year was slightly more stressful than I was accustomed to, though it seemed like a chore—an obligation—at first, I really did learn a lot from it. I became a slightly better candidate for my dream school, yes, but also I enjoyed meeting new people and adding something new to my list of life experiences. I became a more independent person.
Even right now, complaining to the Word document in front of me, helps me realize another important thing that I was missing, too.
Cherish the summers where you can get ice cream with friends. Travel the world. Stay up late and wake up later. Even with my depressing ratio of free time to work time, with all the research and bussing tables I’ll (hopefully) be doing in a couple months, I’ll try to do the same.
I still love my summers—they just come with a different type of heat now.
