Response #2: N.Y. State of Mind

Note to reader: Please play this music video in the background to enhance the reading experience.

Kate’s tales of tunneling provide the springboard for this post. Well done, lady, your post was hilarious and as you already know, I couldn’t agree more. The terror yet sheer magnetism of the top-deck front seat! The excitement of the city looming! The fluorescent lights, oh, the fluorescent lights!

I have been going to and from NYC at least once a month as of late, and zooming into Lincoln produces that same euphoric buzz in me. One minute I’m full speed ahead into what could end up the bad side of afterlife, and the next I’m staring gleefully at the bright red New Yorker sign. Shaboom — natural high!

This tunneling experience is only as great as the end game. I get monumentally pumped because I know I’m about to enter a concrete jungle filled with friends, artists, and really good food. Not to mention I am highly likely to encounter a flash mob and a ninja turtle there (both on my bucket list). I heart NYC, and have come to prefer it to DC for all of these reasons. Tunneling would not seem so exciting if I didn’t have those things and more waiting for me.

Take for instance that DC tunnel which shall remain nameless (mainly because I have no clue what it’s called) that leads you from the E Street exit off Teddy Roosevelt Bridge to Whitehurst Freeway. It’s shiny and well lit. There’s even a good chance I’d be killed at high speeds. But it leads to a desolate corner of K Street, save for the resident homeless man. Need I say more? Suffice it to say that when I tunnel, I want the promise of truly living, not the bleak reminder that life can be both boring and cruel.

My next tunneling adventure into NYC is only 2.5 weeks away. Kate, I’m looking to you to provide soundtrack suggestions. Something with a beat, please.

Response #1: People as Purpose of Higher Ed

Tiffani’s personal post “Getting Back to Me” has stuck with me ever since I read it last week. It made me question what I got out of my alma mater and what I miss about it.

I have to say that I had a relatively easy transition post-college. I had a job by the end of the summer after I graduated, and I moved to DC with two of my best friends from college. I actually sort of blossomed down here. Ha, okay, blossomed is a bit much. But it’s as if the confidence that was building inside of me by the end of my time at school suddenly came out at full capacity. DC, even with all of its overachieving and strategically-minded young pros, was the place where my self-doubt took a back seat. And I never really felt that stomach-turning longing to go back to college.

How did I get to this point? I definitely credit my education, but even more so the overall experience of university life. After being in a university setting as both a student and staff member for over six years now, I realize that what makes or breaks your experience in higher education is the people. I began working at Georgetown four days after moving to DC, and I have met some of the smartest, funniest, and overwhelmingly caring people there. They made me feel like I was coming home every day that I went into work. My colleagues allowed me to shine in the workplace and fostered a confidence that had yet to fully mature.

Even still, I often ask myself, don’t I miss my college days? Not really. For me, my college experience was great because of the people, and I have seen my best friends from school every month since we walked in May 2008. They are what defined me then, and they are what defines me now. Yes, the education was wonderful, but truth be told I could have read those books anywhere. It was the people I was surrounded by at Cornell, and the people that surround me now, that have made my higher education experiences truly unforgettable.