As I was finishing off a box of Cheez-Its that I had purchased the prior day, I suddenly thought about being twenty and how being twenty, I am okay. My best friend recently told me that when she is unexpectedly upset or anxious, she often isn’t aware of such emotions until later, due to the lack of thought put into rather minimal, unproblematic problems. I suppose the natural banalities of sadness that we all have are mostly better to be unanalyzed. At this time in our young lives, most aspects are pleasant and supported. I have been offered by an incredibly intelligent Philosophy professor questions about moral luck that bewilder and thrill me to the extent that I am still thinking about them today weeks after class. I have been offered the opportunity to study Renaissance art in Florence this coming fall. I am not sure of another time in my future when I will have such pleasures.
I was recently sitting by the pond outside of my dorm, when I heard the director of the Short Term production of Twelfth Night scream out to one of the actors to “turn up the heat—let me see that sexy.” Although this seemed to be a rather strikingly strange request to ask of the girl playing Countess Olivia, I found myself actually very pleased by his statement. At times, even at what seems to be borderline inappropriate or confusingly unbalanced times, I think it is important to look at both settling and problematic situations in more unusual and indulgent ways. Being twenty allows for mindful thinking, but also liberated assured consideration.
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It worries me how dramatic I get about certain parts of my very okay life. I am not going to be a homeless poet for all of my adulthood because I didn’t get an internship at NPR this summer. I am not going to let myself slip into the snide looks that probably aren’t snide from my ex-boyfriend’s friends in Commons. I get plenty of wonderfully happy looks from enough people to not clench my jaw over non-problematic scenarios. For what I think is true of most Bates students, our lives will never be so well-connected, so lovingly maintained and affirmed—although it is understandable to be upset to see a friend bite his nails bloody over next week’s final or another’s self-conscious awkwardness over people’s possibly concerning facial expressions. Â
I love and hope that more college students are able to find the sexiness in Shakespeare, the wild weirdness and allure of our friends and issues and generally wonderful lives.Â