Remember those classes in high school where the teacher would spend 80 percent of each period delivering their life story rather than actually teaching? Everyone complained about them, myself included. After all, we were in school to learn about Shakespearean dramas, or the American Revolution, not why Linda continued to mourn the loss of her college boyfriend.
But even as I moaned and groaned about what a waste of time these discussions were, a part of me enjoyed them. Often subconsciously, I would recall my teachers’ stories of trials and successes when feeling overwhelmed about my own life. I wondered what it might be like to have experiences that let me acquire such wisdom, and further, what it would be like to tell future generations about the lessons I had learned.
I don’t have a classroom full of students (minus my Longwood Seminar class). I don’t have younger siblings, children or grandchildren who could benefit from my anecdotes. Instead, I’m here, shouting into the void that is Longwood University in the form of an advice column.
I’ll be receiving emails from Longwood students asking for input and advice on matters of life, love and school. In my 19 years of life, I’ve seen and done some shit. I may not have definitive answers to your problems, but I can weigh in with a touch of humor, a dash of personal experience, and as much kindness as one can possibly muster. Don’t worry about your problems being aired to the entire campus either: all letters sent to me will remain anonymous.
Below, I’ve attached my first letter. Follow in their footsteps and write to me at (karyn.keane@live.longwood.edu).
Dear Karyn,
I feel lost at Longwood. It wasn’t my first-choice school to begin with and I’m having serious doubts about whether or not I should be here. I just don’t seem to fit in, socially or academically. Help me out?
Sincerely,
Dazed & Confused
Dear Dazed & Confused,
I remember calling my friends during New Lancer Days and sobbing about how I had failed at college before even starting. From my perspective, it looked as though everyone around me was thriving while I sank deeper and deeper into the abyss. My first semester at Longwood was, without a doubt, my darkest hour. If you’re experiencing similar feelings, find coping methods.
Some of my favorites are calling my friends from home, reading a pleasure book, and binge-watching episodes of Gilmore Girls on Netflix. When these solitary activities aren’t working for you, force yourself to try new (and often terrifying) things. These may include initiating conversations with people in your classes and on your hall, making plans to attend Lancer Productions events, or joining an organization on campus.
I determine my next move by asking myself what I haven’t done yet, and I suggest you do the same. Tired of being lonely? Surround yourself with a few of the lovely people who inhabit Longwood. Feeling like you can’t manage your time? Buy a planner, highlight the shit out of it, and get organized with a schedule you make yourself. Not finding any organizations that interest you? Start a new one that does.
I know firsthand that the stress of feeling like an outsider can inhibit you from doing these things. You’re likely spending so much time worrying that you have no time to think of solutions, much less act upon them. In the words of one of my favorite professors, “Don’t let your emotions make you their bitch.” Do what you need to do. Push through your negative feelings so you can (hopefully) move onto more positive ones.
The most important piece of advice I give to you is to allow Longwood University a chance to feel like home. Acquiring this sense of comfort and contentment may take longer than you want it to, but when you finally reach that point, there’s no greater feeling. As someone who contemplated quitting many times throughout my freshman year, I look back and feel so thankful that I stuck it out. Longwood is now my home away from home and I urge you to allow it to become yours.
Love,
Karyn
