From chemistry equations to economics, it seems every person I meet is doing something with numbers. It’s not too surprising, given that most people tend to major in some form of STEM or business. I knew coming into college, I would be part of the few history and English majors in the student body. After all, there are only 85 declared history majors and 74 declared English majors this Spring 2026 semester. Combined, these majors make up less than 2% of the 12,000 enrolled students at SMU. At first, I didn’t think much of it, but as time passed, I began to feel alienated.

Throughout my educational career, I have always worked better with words. While others groaned about writing essays, being able to push away my algebra equations felt like a breath of fresh air. Choosing what to study in university was a no-brainer. History was where my strengths resided, so what else would I do?

I wasn’t a stranger to my peers in high school looking at me strange because of my decision. I simply brushed it off and joked about how they’d be singing a different tune when I was a historian for the Smithsonian. I was sure that sifting through those dozens of archives would pay off. Something seemed so different about it when I got to college. The real world realization officially set in, and I was met with what exactly committing to this path would be like.

Everywhere I went, it felt like I stood out. In each class introduction, people seemed confused when I revealed what I was studying. Almost as if they couldn’t grasp why I would choose these options out of all things. It felt like the question of “But what can you even do with that?” Never seemed to end. Similarly, my answer of “museum work” began to lose its pride.

When I realized none of my classes lined up with my friends, life only became lonelier. Due to this, we never crossed paths throughout the day much. The college mythos of bonding in class and doing homework together never seemed to take place in my experience. I couldn’t joke about how hard the chemistry homework was or ask to practice calculus together because I wasn’t in those classes. It wasn’t like I could discuss my Shakespeare class with them either. This all accumulated until I felt so unbearably separated from everyone else that it felt like I would never be able to make those meaningful connections.

I became so frustrated. Why was all this happening? Was choosing this path really so bad? Why was I so different from everyone else?

When overthinking became a serious consideration of changing my major, I knew it was time to take a step back. I reflected on everything and realized that I was making things out to be a lot worse than they were. I reminded myself why I was on this path: love and passion for the subjects that tend to be brushed aside as less important. Writing for The Daily Campus also opened a new interest for me, and I soon added a journalism minor to my roster.

All in all, being a humanities student, especially as a freshman, can be daunting. You feel different than most of the other people you meet, but the feeling doesn’t last forever. What’s important is keeping your set goals in mind and reminding yourself why you chose this path in the first place. I wouldn’t trade my majors for the world, and I’m already forming connections with other people who are majoring or minoring in the same areas as me. I don’t know where I’d be without my passions for these studies, and I hope that bringing light to my own experience can help people feeling similarly feel less alone.