A few days ago in class, one of my professors started discussing the fact that in a college community, we are in a sort of bubble; it’s an atmosphere that is incredibly inclusive, yet everyone is striving to have their own unique experience. And then he decided to drive the nostalgia knife into all of the graduating seniors in the class by stating the fact that many of us were trying so hard to avoid: that we will never be in a place quite like this ever again.
I knew I wanted to go to UNC before I set foot on the campus. Someone in high school once told me that the best school in North Carolina was definitely UNC. Being extremely competitive, I only wanted to be at the best school, so I decided that UNC was going to be the place for me. In the spring of my senior year of high school, I saw campus for the first time. My family and I took a tour on a frigid February morning. It was the end of winter, when the cold has sucked most of the life out of the students as well as the campus, yet this magical sense of possibility seemed to radiate from the bricks we walked on or maybe the stone monuments we passed. Wherever it came from, it was telling me that this was going to be my home.
For the past four years, pride would swell in my voice as I told the cashier at the grocery store, an old friend’s mother, my dentist and anyone else who asked, that I was a Tar Heel. I would scowl at folks walking down the street just for donning a shirt that was that terrible shade of dark blue and laugh at the ones who sported a ridiculously un-frightening cartoon of a wolf on a background of red. I mourned with the rest of the University, when our good-hearted and beautiful Student Body President Eve Carson was found brutally murdered near her home in Chapel Hill. I excitedly ran all the way to Franklin Street from Morrison dorm to hop over fires when Roy’s Boys became National Champions in 2009. I’ve seen the Clefs’ Old Well Sing, sunbathed on Polk Place every spring and pulled more all-nighters in the UL than any healthy person ever should.
For everything that I have accomplished in my undergraduate career, what stands out most to me are the opportunities I missed out on, mainly because I was afraid. I never studied abroad; I thought it would cost too much money. But I also never tried to find out about financial aid opportunities for study abroad, and I thought I wouldn’t be considered for some of the scholarships because I wasn’t smart or interesting enough. I never got to intern in a cool city like Washington D.C. or New York City, two cities I would love to work in one day. And it was because I didn’t try to look for an internship in those cities. I didn’t try to get a second major; I thought it would be too much work. I didn’t try to win awards, write an honors thesis or participate in clubs, charities or intramural sports. I simply thought I couldn’t do it all, and so I didn’t try.
It might be that four years really isn’t enough time to try to do everything you want to do in college.
But that doesn’t mean you should be afraid to try. College is not a time for excuses; it’s a time for discovery and exploration. One of our most famous alumni, Michael Jordan, said it best when he said, “I can accept failure, everyone fails at something. But I can’t accept not trying”. I implore you, heed the advice of two alumni, one old and one new: take full advantage of your time at Carolina, so that you may graduate with no regrets.
I know that I am tied to this place like no other. I know that I will succeed because of the lessons I received at this university. I pledge to support and live by the Carolina way. I am, and will always be, a Tar Heel.
Photos:
Wilson Library (photo): Amanda MacLaren
Amanda MacLaren at 2011 Duke game at UNC: Amanda MacLaren
Bell Tower (photo): Amanda MacLaren