The first week of college is built up to be such a pivotal occasion in a young person’s life, and incoming students and their parents spend weeks (maybe even months) preparing for the critical moments packed into the first week…moving in, meeting the roommate, welcome week events, the first day of classes, etc. It’s fairly romanticized, but just like prom, sweet 16 parties, and “the big game,” reality seldom matches up to archetypal expectations.
This was definitely the case for me, when I began college in the fall of 1987. I’d grown up in the same town, and my parents kept me home first semester. They said it was because of money (my older brother was a junior at the same school, and my younger brother and sister would be coming to college within the next couple of years as well.) Looking back, it may have also been because they knew I wasn’t ready for the realities of residence hall living.
I was a socially awkward kid…smart, friendly and caring, but generally shy and unable to navigate social situations…easily hurt, at times even a little needy. I didn’t really have a clear idea about what I wanted out of college, beyond making new friends and finding some way to get a job and make money on the other end.
As a townie living with his parents, I missed out on arrival day, and didn’t have the hopes or worries that came with having a roommate. Instead I was preoccupied with meeting new people, especially college girls, and finding some way to redefine myself as a more confident, interesting and attractive person. It never occurred to me how hard to do that might be while attending my hometown university.
The first day of classes, I woke up early, eager to get to class and start my new life. I’d chosen my clothes for the day and was ready to roll out the new me. When I arrived at the bathroom mirror, reality smacked me right in the head. Or at least that’s what it looked like.
On the side of my head, I had a huge lump. It hadn’t been there the night before and, well, it didn’t look good. I got dressed anyway and went downstairs to get breakfast. My parents told me to go to the health center and get it checked out. After all, they had paid the medical fee, and thought we might as well get out money’s worth out of it.
So I went to class, and tried my best to be cool, which was kind of hard, with a big lump on the side of my head. Before class started, I had pretty much struck out with at least 3 girls, and then found myself completely unable to comprehend my TA’s thick Eastern European accent not to mention single-variable calculus.
The health center was already busy, and I had a long wait. I didn’t have any classes until the afternoon, though, so I figured I had time. The doctor poked a bit at my head, took a good look from several angles, and said it was a cyst of some kind and likely needed to be excised, but that he wasn’t comfortable cutting into my head because of the risk of infection. He offered to send me to a specialist 30 minutes away, and said I should probably go that day.
So I ended up needing to skip 2 of my afternoon classes (on the first day) to drive to the specialist, for fear that this mountain on the side of my head was something bad, and that if I didn’t get it taken care of in the right way, I could get a bad infection that might spread to my brain and kill me.
The head and neck guy took one look at the lump, said it would probably go away in a few days with prescription cream, wrote me a prescription and wished me luck. The cyst shrank away within a few days, as he said it would. It was a bit anti-climactic, given the whole “if-I-cut-your-head-you-might-die” scenario, which at least would have added a little drama to freshman year.
I had pictured in my head many different scenarios for starting college, but none of them were anything like this. I got off on the wrong foot and found myself perpetually struggling to figure out what I was supposed to be doing in college, and who I was supposed to be. This quest for identity lasted far beyond college. In truth, it lasts up until this day.
In my career, I have seen so many students struggle with similar circumstances, only to realize that recreating yourself isn’t an overnight phenomenon, but rather something that you have to work at, through goal-setting, examining the choices in front of you, and adjusting your expectations. I wish that I had the insight to be even just a little more active with my goal-setting, and that I had found a mentor or sounding board to help me sort through all the ideas and general nonsense that was running through my head back then.
These days, I do my best to offer insights to the students I work with, and to be a mentor and sounding board for those who need direction. It comes fairly natural to me, and it gives me great satisfaction to know that I am helping students choose directions in their lives.
So the idea of starting a life and career coaching practice makes sense to me, as I’ve been that student who needed help, and that professional who helped them. As someone who has worked in higher education for over 15 years, I have a lot of context to share, and a good idea how things work at colleges and universities. I hope to put this knowledge and experience to good use, in helping college students manage their transition to college, learn to set life and career goals, and adjust to the changes that come along with going to college.
I also think that sending your child off to college can be an interesting transition time for parents, as they learn to see their student as a young adult, and search for healthy ways to support their growth and development. This seems especially important in this era of millenial students and “helicopter” parents, where the ability to stay in constant communication via e-mail and cell phone has changed relationship dynamics between students and their parents. The key, it seems, is to find an appropriate balance between helping a student manage change, and fostering the independence they will need to be a healthy, functioning adult.
If you are a college student (or college parent) looking for assistance in managing your transition, setting goals, and finding the resources that will help you, I am eager to speak with you about the benefits of life, career and transition coaching. E-mail me at sean@higheredlifecoach.com if you would like to learn more about howto make the most out of the college experience.
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