Chapter 1: The Magic of College Lesson 1 One Thing Is for Sure: College Is Full of Hope "The very least you can do in your life is to figure out what you hope for. And the most you can do is live inside that hope. Not admire it from a distance but live right in it, under its roof." Barbara Kingsolver, Animal Dreams "Hope" is the thing with feathers-- That perches in the soul-- And sings the tune without the words-- And never stops--at all-- Emily Dickinson, "Hope is the Thing with Feathers" What is college all about? What is it for? College students like you want many of the same things that students wanted decades ago, and struggle with many of the same things, too. Like everyone who has preceded you, it''s normal to arrive on campus with the same age-old questions of "Who am I?" and "What will become of me?" Or, in the words of poet Mary Oliver, you''re likely wrestling with the question of "What is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?" One of the most timeless and important qualities about college is that it''s a structure, a dwelling, of and for and about hope--what I would call a hope structure. College is about educating a new citizenry. And it''s also about socializing for, and toward, hope. I was reminded of this when scrolling on social media and noticed my friend, Dr.
Kathryn Feltey, a brilliant, now retired sociologist at the University of Akron, who posted a photo of her eighteen-year old self in which she had inscribed "I am leaving my childhood behind as I search for my life and who I will be." That is essentially what college is all aboutto individuate from your family of origin, forge a new path, and discover how to grow into a bigger version of yourself. Students arrive on college campuses wanting a fresh start and to expand beyond the confines of wherever it is they come frombecause regardless of if you come from a suburb, a major city, or a tiny rural town, almost all students seem to want something more, and something different, from where they came. College gives you the opportunity to reinvent yourself, to develop new perspectives for how to think about issues in the world, and to consider your place in it. You can reflect on your past, contemplate the future, and hopefully, vibrantly engage in the present. College becomes a place to dream big and bigger and for you to try out new versions of yourselves alone and in relationships, in what we know to be that uneasy time between late childhood and early adulthood. Imagine for a moment the image of an accordion, of how this musical instrument opens and closes and opens again, how it vibrates and produces sound. Students I''ve worked with resemble that accordion, going inward, expanding outward, playfully experimenting, and making new music.
Or, imagine a kaleidoscope, that with each turn reveals new reflections, patterns, color, and light. That''s what college doeswith each new course, with each group of friends, with involvement in new and different activities and organizations, with successes and failures, you can try out new ways of seeing and being. The kaleidoscopic nature of college gives you the tools to develop new frameworks and outlooks, to cast away older versions of yourselves and to begin again. There''s so much hope in that. To become the architect of your own life, to get inside and truly inhabit this structure of college, or what I''m referring to as a hope structure, you have to do it yourself. Neither your parents nor professors like me can design it for you. No doubt there will be times, based on our own life experiences, when we, your parents and mentors, want to shout, "Wait, hold on, be careful, let me do that, the plans don''t seem sound, the blueprint seems wrong, the roof may collapse, the ground may flood!" and we desperately want to swoop in and fix things. The thing is though, we''re not living in that hope structure with you; we get to see your pictures of it, we get to hear about the progress or lack thereof with the building of it, and we listen to your anguish when things aren''t working.
But, the dream home you''re buildingliterally the structure to house your hopesis one that''s made even more sturdy when it''s one you''ve built yourself, even if it''s harder that way. This going away to college thing is a way of figuring out how to come home to yourself. It''s about making a home and a life only you can dream of. One that works for you and only you. One that is authentic and true to your own innermost needs, values, and desires. College inevitably involves turbulent transitions and difficult conversations that may rock you to your core and challenge your sense of what your foundation is, as well as encourage you to question aspects of where you''ve come from and where you''re going. Here, I aim to show you how at its best, college is about inhabiting spaces more fully and creatively. Home and place are the quintessential things people struggle with; this yearning for a sense of home is central to the human condition and manifests in myriad ways.
Typically, home is where we might expect to feel and behave most ourselves, and it''s a primary site for where and how relationships come together and break apart, and how people come to voice and identify who they are. Even today, when people ask me what I consider home for example, it turns out that where I went to college is high on my list. It was at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, formative for me in every possible way, that I came into myself intellectually, emotionally, academically, politically, professionally, relationally, sexually, and creatively. I''ve come to see that places, people, and life-changing and life-affirming experiences can all feel like home. Going to college is a chance to begin to design your life. Like I said, you''re the architect of it. Through the college experience, you get to design your interior space. By that I mean your physical space and your psychic space.
You get to choose how you dwell and about what you dwell. This is your dream house, your hope structure. And, you have the opportunity to experience what gives you energy, what feeds you, and who you are at your deepest essence.