I am not feeling particularly opinionated right now. Nor inspirational. Nor outraged. I have reached a moment in this semester, in this presidency, and in this life, where I find success when I accomplish anything over the course of a single day. To say that I am fatigued is an understatement. In the immortal words of Pink Floyd, I have become comfortably numb.
I’ve written about my first love and my last burn-out. I’ve plumbed some depths and scratched a few surfaces. I’ve written a couple thousand words that I hoped would shed some light on what it means to be a middle-aged woman on a college campus.
I can’t give you hook-up suggestions, sadly.
Students frequently ask me for advice, seeing in me some sort of combination of aunt, counselor, and academic advisor. I happily oblige as I believe in every single one of them and know that, for many, I am the first adult that has taken them seriously. It is as rewarding as it is tiring. Yet, I wonder if I am doing a service here, on HerCampus, with weekly random posts about a plethora of issues. As my time at this university winds down, I think about any impact I may have had, any positive residue left by my presence here. Will my time at the school with other students, or my few posts here on HerCampus, amount to anything besides my own personal gain?
Do you even care what non-traditional students think?
Because we are your future. Politics, technology, and economies change so rapidly that you will, almost certainly, find yourself back in school one day; perhaps just for some new training, perhaps to make a career change, or maybe just for fun. Those older students you sit next to, whose advice you either appreciate or tolerate, will be you one day, and you can either put your head down and focus solely on you, or reach out and attempt to hand some of your life lessons to those just starting out.
Most won’t care. Some will make fun. A few will thank you. Remember those.
I never intended to become involved with so many students. Working in the University Writing Center uncovered a talent I had for encouraging new writers, helping them build their tools and their confidence. I am thankful for the chance to have touched so many lives, but I wonder if they know how they have touched mine. They graduate so quickly, leaving traces of sessions and papers on my memory, but each and every one of them has impacted me in some way. I can only hope the feeling was mutual.