I grew up in a household where lists were an essential part of the day. My parents started out the week by making a to-do list with everything on their agendas, and my sister wrote down all of her homework in a small notebook. Despite all of this, lists weren’t really my thing. Sure, I jotted down a few important dates in my planner and occasionally used it for the first 4-5 weeks of the school year. After that, however, I resorted to my old ways—keeping track of things in my head, using the online school calendar and nothing else. I felt silly making lists. Why did I need to keep track of anything? My school’s homework calendar was enough. Surely, I could be responsible for my own agenda without a simple piece of paper reminding me what to do.
I finally gave into the pressure during my junior year—using my corgi-themed wall calendar to plan out one week at a time. It felt nice to look at the colorful pages adorning my wall with pleasant reminders about my Chemistry test at the end of the week. Despite this, I never truly appreciated my calendar or the small amount of lists I had started to make. It felt like I was doing something because I was supposed to, not because I wanted to.
It wasn’t until the middle of the pandemic that I realized just how important lists are. As I was stripped of my regular routine, I began to create lengthy schedules for each day, planning time to attend my online classes, complete my homework, go on walks, and spend time with family. I had finally found the sense of purpose that my mom had rambled on about for so many years. I felt fulfilled with every task that I completed; every sticky note that I ticked off from my wall made me feel accomplished—something that being house-bound had stripped from me. I felt organized, prepared, and smart. Not in a book-smarts kind of way, but in a “life” sort of way. As weird as it is to say, I finally felt like an adult. Or at least an organized teenager.
As I’ve transitioned to college life, lists have become an even bigger part of my reality. My college schedule is much more spread out than my high school classes ever were, making lists even more essential to completing all of my work. Between my desk calendar and the stack of sticky notes in the front drawer of my desk, I have had plenty of ways to keep track of all of my work. Lists have made accomplishing my homework much easier as well; with professors assigning more long-term work than high school, I’ve been able to plan out the phases of my work that I’d like to complete by a certain day. I feel confident, happier, and less stressed. There’s no scrambling to try and find the assignment on the syllabus or the stress of signing onto Moodle. I just turn to my lists for everything that I need, and use the tools that my professors have given me as a final check.
A part of me wishes that I had accepted the possibility of lists far earlier on. I could have been in a far more relaxed state of mind with them. Regardless, I’m grateful that I’ve learned to love lists, and even more grateful that I can lead my life in a more organized way. With all of the twists and turns that this year has brought, lists have been essential to keeping me sane. I brought my corgi calendar with me to Kenyon. Every time I make a new list at the start of the week, I look up at it, feeling reminded of how far I’ve come. Even in the craziness of this year, I find comfort in the one thing that I can control each time I pick up a pen.