Unlike the majority of my fellow Her Campus writers, I am not a communications, PR, or media major. The first time someone used the word ‘hyperlink’ in a meeting I think I choked on my coffee. However, just because I was Captain Clueless for our entire first meeting doesn’t mean I don’t do a lot of writing. I’m a science major and proudly so. I write enough to consciously think about all the trees I’ve killed, which I’m not as proud about.
Science majors, if you haven’t noticed, are somewhat of a different breed. Sometimes we don’t know how to communicate with other people because we haven’t seen another person in ten hours. Sometimes we look like we’ve been up for over thirty hours. And sometimes its because we actually have been up for over thirty hours. Other times it’s because we were out late celebrating the fact that we made a B on that test that we stayed up thirty hours studying for. You win some, you lose some. Science majors across the board can–and will–gripe about their lives while simultaneously comparing lecture notes and secretly getting excited about our upcoming lecture.
And, of course, here at UNCW there are some things that make us a little extra special.
1. You have a love/hate relationship with Dobo.
Even though the chairs are squeaky (literally every single one of them are), you can at least be guaranteed a constant temperature in the building: Cold as shit. And you know that the chemistry floor is for some reason about ten degrees colder than the biology floor. The lecture room that you had organic chemistry in will always give you flashbacks. You know the quickest way from your classroom to the vending machines and back and exactly how long it takes you. Love it and hate it, this building has been more or less your home for the entirety of your time here at UNCW.
2. Speaking of organic…
Personally, I survived the lecture two years ago and it still gives me *bad feelings* if I think about it too hard. But the thing is, we have to think about it. What you learned in that lecture proves relevant in many of your other courses, as much as you wish it wasn’t. As a science major, whenever you see someone in Randall trying to work out a PBr or ES1 equation on a whiteboard you just want to hug them and buy them a coffee and a donut. Poor things.
3. You live your entire life in Randall.
I wish I was lying when I say I spend as much time in the library as I do my own apartment. Science majors know all of the best study spots, and we don’t like to share. You know which tables have outlets nearby and are still within Kobe distance to the trashcan, for when you want to throw your tear stained tissues/third cup of coffee away. You know who works the night shift at PCJ not because you’re a creep but because you see them so often, same with the security staff. As a science major you’re probably all too familiar with the layout of the quiet floor and the fact that the whiteboard markers that the circulation desk have suck beyond compare.
4. Other students don’t always get you.
There are so many times when you just want to scream at your friends because even though you may love them to death, they just do not understand how much it kills you to hear them talk about how hard their two page report is. What do you mean you didn’t have to have any academic references? You mean you didn’t spend five hours on PubMed just to get a C+? Please, go away. Not everyone understands the weird sense of satisfaction that we get from piecing together a complex reaction. Or the odd joy we get out of explaining the ecological significance of wetland marshes and how without them Wilmington would be hard pressed to exist. Seriously, google it. Or just ask any of us.
5. You know that almost all chemicals will stain, but not all of them will kill you.
Our one credit labs that take up just as much time of the week as a three credit lecture are time consuming and often painstaking. You watch a solution drip from one bowl to another for over an hour in organic lab. You carry a cup of your own pee down the hallway in physiology lab. You handle chemicals and live fishes and E.Coli and carcinogens and somehow you are still alive. Not that I haven’t broken glass and not that I don’t STILL have silver nitrate under my fingernails from a lab I did four weeks ago. Chemical stains/scars are our form of battle wounds. Whatever, FOR SCIENCE!
6. Sleep is an abstract verb.
Don’t talk to us about sleep deprivation. Seriously, don’t. We get that you’re tired because you got four hours of sleep last night, but that’s a maximum for several nights in a row in the science department. Those science students that are also athletes or work full time–I have so much respect for you. I would write a novel on you and your bravery. I am sure that Dunkin, PCJ, and Starbucks would close without the funds of science majors ordering espressos with only one eye open.
7. You learn some ~weird~ things. And you love to share them.
The sciences have a wide foundation. You take everything from ichthyology (the study of fishes) to microbiology (the study of bacteria) and you learn a lot. I have accidentally bored my less than enthused friends about the relationship between missing a form of mitochondria and a higher incidence of hangovers on more than one occasion. Over the years you learn that most people do not actually want to hear the words ‘fecal microbiota transplant’ and want to hear even less about the process itself. You begin to realize that the number 0.05 has a significant difference in your life than the life of any non-science student. Really, you share your weird and often gross knowledge because you believe that everyone should find it just as fascinating as you do.
We are sleep deprived and running on a constant state of information overload. But we wouldn’t have it any other way. We would apologize for our word vomit about how cool the intracoastal trawl with Dr. Lankford was, but we will never be sorry for learning about the world around us and in us. And if you ever want to know more about said worlds, you can find us asleep on a couch in Dobo, writing the second lab report of the week at a cubical in Randall, or in line at Dunkin. Learn, report, coffee, repeat.