I never thought I’d experience reverse culture shock after only a month studying abroad in Switzerland.
But there I was, freshly back at UF and bizarrely disgruntled with an aspect of the college environment that never peeved me before. It wasn’t the lack of melted cheese or beautiful mountainscapes, but a skill hammered into us since middle school: time management.
The Realization
In Switzerland, being on time isn’t merely a learned skill; it’s an expected cultural norm that forms how the nation operates. Kindergarteners independently transport themselves to school with punctuality. The nation’s watchmaking industry is a physical representation of time sensitivity, and the Swiss public transportation system is considered among the most punctual in the world (Gainesville could never). Showing up barely late to a tour isn’t a menial mistake, but rather a blatant exhibition of disrespect for your tour guide and their time.
Somewhere along the way, I began to subconsciously adapt to this time-precious philosophy. It was comforting to know my bus would be there when it said it would. It was even more eye-opening to see how a culture based on punctuality actually allowed its people to slow down instead of speed up.
However, upon coming to UF, I was reintroduced to the pervasive attribute that is flakiness, a blanket term I define as a lack of follow-through with plans, whether that’s being late, canceling, or postponing. Before studying abroad, I didn’t see the potency of flakiness on campus, but now it’s indisputable that it is a key part of daily college life.
The Moral Dilemma
It really is bewildering to me how we have all assimilated to the culture of flakiness. People will bail on plans made weeks in advance because they are too tired the day of. A professor will cancel class because they left their house a little late and couldn’t find a parking spot (though that really is a win). You could have spent your whole day hustling to get your work done so you can get out of the house by eight, just to have a friend take an unexpectedly long nap and postpone it to next week.
But is it even valid to be upset when we’ve virtually all flaked at one point or another?
The fact is we’re living in a modern college environment where the burden to optimize every part of life is crushing. We need perfect grades, a bustling social life, a consistent gym routine, and to “max” everything from protein to productivity to our eye makeup. Of course, when we focus on the bigger picture of living life to the fullest, the little details, like making it out the door on time or following through on every commitment, fall through the cracks. Plus, if you start to express frustrations with flakiness, you are pretty much condemning yourself to never being late again, for the risk of looking like a massive hypocrite. So maybe, we don’t have a right to be annoyed with lateness.
The Uncomfortable Realization and Bigger-Picture Consequences
But maybe, we do.
We often use “busyness” as a crutch to support our unreliability. But realistically, how much time do we dedicate to scrolling a day that we could actually funnel into waking up earlier or arriving on time? What starts as one valid excuse to stay home and study can quickly morph into a habit of justifying lack of follow-through with reasons we don’t even follow through ourselves. Scrolling instead of studying, studying through exhaustion instead of resting – in a schedule that’s hectic with countless priorities, we can become so consumed by productivity that we end up being too busy for both others and ourselves.
What’s even more concerning to me is the potential for these habits to persist throughout post-grad life. More and more, I see short-form content lamenting over how working adults take months to make plans with friends and how work-life balance is extremely difficult to get used to. If we can’t develop the skills and habits to manage our time effectively and respect others in college, how will we be able to maintain meaningful relationships as life inevitably gets busier?
The Resolution
Ultimately, I think the “cure” to the epidemic of flakiness lies at the intersection of both empathy and accountability.
Like anything, flakiness, unreliability, lateness – you name it – is unique to each individual. We all have our own expectations of timeliness based on family culture and varying limits to what makes us uniquely ticked off. An acquaintance who is late once is vastly different from a best friend who forgot about your birthday party or a boyfriend who can never show up on time. And while we have a right to feel how we feel, our right to project our expectations onto others in an environment with such unique players and no uniform culture of timeliness may be in question.
In my opinion, Lin-Manuel Miranda’s Aaron Burr said it best, “I am the one thing in life I can control.” Really, all we can do in the chaos of college is do our best to build a mentality that brings us our own fortitude against the ever-changing variables of life. For me, that looks like pushing myself to stay accountable for not falling into flakiness and viewing punctuality of others as a bonus and less as a cultural law. For others, it may be giving flexibility to those in their lives so they can receive the same flexibility in return. Some may have no mental room for those who don’t mirror their own commitment to time. What’s important is that each individual can acknowledge the coexistence of both frustration and grace, while maintaining transparency to the people they care about.
Ultimately, it’s inevitable the Gainesville bus will be late. Plans will be postponed and canceled. But one thing we can’t be too busy for is defining our own line between accountability and empathy. Only then can we truly show up for the people we care about – and let them show up for us too (even if they’re a little late).