I’m going to let you in on a little secret: I wasn’t planning on coming to Stanford.
I know, it’s hard to stomach, particularly after last week’s column where I publicly declared my love for Stanford (which, for the record, still holds true). But back when I was in high school, I spent the majority of my senior year thinking that I would be attending a particular school over on the East Coast.
I had applied to said school early action, and once I got in, I was on cloud nine. I had it all figured out: I was going to major in bioengineering, join a sorority and live it up in the snow (I’m not entirely sure how I tricked myself into thinking this — I live in California and own a portable space heater). I was convinced, and I was in the midst of packing my bags when something happened: I got into Stanford.
I still remember reading the email that welcomed me to the Class of 2014. I was sitting on my bed and staring at my computer screen while my mom, who was downstairs in the kitchen, remained completely unaware of the news I had just received. It was only after a few minutes of disbelief that I managed to walk over to the stairs and yell, “Hey Mom…I just got into Stanford.”
It was right then that my slightly-less-than-a-quarter-life crisis began.
I had never really thought about what I would do if I got into Stanford, so when I did get in, I had absolutely no idea what to do with myself. I spent hours making pro/con lists and seeking out students at both colleges in order to try and determine who was happier. I even attended both admit weekends, but as the May 1 deadline drew near, I found myself no closer to making a decision.
It wasn’t until one night at dinner, when I totally freaked out (typical crazed “But what if I make the wrong choice?!?!” stuff), that my parents finally spoke up and suggested that I attend Stanford. I quickly shut up and asked them for their reasoning, which led to hours of discussion at the dinner table that gave me plenty of new pros and cons for my lists.
The next morning, after careful deliberation, I approached my parents and told them that I was ready to make a deposit to secure my place at Stanford University, and the waterworks began. I cried, my mom cried, we all cried, and — long story short — here I am now.
Now, the only reason I was reminded of this story was because I am a sophomore, and I, like many of my fellow Fourteen-ers, am currently in the process of figuring out my major. iDeclare Week was just a few weeks ago, and at the various events there was one particular piece of advice that I remember hearing multiple times: “Remember, it’s not your parents’ education. It’s yours.”
From the moment we commit to Stanford, we are encouraged to take advantage of the University’s vast resources and collaborate with the Stanford community. We are taught to seek advice and learn from our peers, our professors, our advisors and even alumni. Despite this, however, we are never told or even reminded that it is still okay to get help from our original mentors — our parents.
For 18 years of our lives, before we became Stanford students, we were our parents’ kids first. They raised us and helped us become the individuals we are today, individuals who got into Stanford. Doesn’t raising Stanford students qualify them as members of the Stanford community?
Now, I’m not telling you to orient yourself and head off in whatever direction your parents point you toward. When it comes down to it, President Hennessy and Vice Provost Elam are completely right: at the end of the day, this is your education, and more importantly, your life. You should be making your own decisions, and you should be making ones that make you happy.
But it’s important to remember that making your own decisions doesn’t mean you need to shut other people out of your life. So next time you’re worried about picking your major or stressing about a midterm, instead of whining to your roommate, try picking up the phone and giving your parents a call. Regardless of whether you take their advice, I’m sure you’ll leave them with a smile on their faces.
Speaking of majors, Ravali would love to hear about how you chose yours. Email her at ravreddy “at” stanford “dot” edu.