As a graduating senior, I can sum up my four years at SMU in one word: phenomenal.
Not only have I met life-long friends and received an excellent education, but I have also matured and finally feel ready to make my break into the “real world.”
I had never heard of SMU before meeting with my guidance counselor during my senior year of high school. She suggested I stop by the SMU booth at our college fair, which I did. From that point on, I knew where I was headed. It was not the campus or education that first attracted me to SMU. It was the interest the international office took in me. From first meeting the two international recruiting counselors, I knew I would be more than a number on campus. They took interest in who I was and in recruiting a variety of international students to SMU. They made me feel at home.
Coming to SMU in the fall of 2003 as an international student was not easy at first. I had never been to the South, let alone Texas, and I wasn’t Methodist. Would I fit in? Would I have anything in common with my fellow students? Having grown up overseas, living in and experiencing several different cultures, though, it was natural for me to be “different.” So, my SMU experience began as most of my other school experiences had: alone but eager to meet new people.
During my first night at SMU, I headed to the Hughes-Trigg Commons for Week of Welcome activities like most other freshman. As I was waiting in line to enter one of the rooms, I glanced over my shoulder to find a girl with the biggest smile I had ever seen. I smiled back and we began a brief conversation. Months later we were calling each other best friends. We eventually become roommates. Nearly four years later she is sitting next to me as we apply for jobs. My experience at SMU would not have been the same without her.
Freshman year was a mixture of memories, parties, the occasional trip to the library and lots of road trips. My schedule and work ethic probably resembled that of most freshmen, and my typical dilemma of the week was deciding whether to head to the cool frat party or to stay in and write a paper due the next day. My decision? I’ll let you guess.
By sophomore year, I got my act together, moved into a townhouse with three other girls and declared my major. Broadcast journalism was my initial passion, but I was soon to learn I would rather work as an engineer than a broadcast journalist. My introductory production class was interesting but required endless hours of editing and shooting. I found myself sleep deprived, with no social life and little time to complete work for other classes. Some claimed I was miserable.
First semester junior year rolled around and I took a stab at one more broadcast class before ditching that major for print journalism. Waking up at 5:30 a.m. wasn’t my cup of tea, and switching to print was probably the best decision I made during college. I no longer dreaded my alarm or the journalism department, and I was now able to walk in at the more convenient time of 9:30 a.m. It was miraculous. I found time to complete other class assignments and even go out with friends once in awhile. I felt like a college kid again.
Now I have reached the top of the food chain. Initially, I figured senioritis would set in and my course load would dwindle to almost nothing. I thought I would spend all my free time looking for a job, and, in the last few months, being with friends. Again I wasn’t quite on track. Instead of decreasing, my work load increased. I found myself constantly writing stories and rushing to interviews. I guess my parents’ money toward my education was paying off.
Now it’s March, and I find myself swamped with school work and the tedious task of finding a job. I have little down time, but somehow, in those free moments that do come about, I reflect on my college experience. As I walk to class everyday, I look at all the buildings that have become home for the past four years and recall memories, tailgates and good times. I think of the things I’ve done that so many students across the nation cannot say they did, like a 10-day trip to Guatemala last December. In those moments I’m able to smile and say to myself, “I wouldn’t have changed a thing.”
About the writer:
Molly Phillips is a senior journalism major. She can be reached at [email protected].
