Coming of age on campus: The glamourised adulthood that never was
Legend had it that, as adults in university, we would be left in charge of our time, we would be in total control of our classes and life, and we could go and come as we pleased.
What you need to know:
- Looking back at my university journey, I realise how society sells us a glamourised fantasy of campus adulthood that rarely matches reality.
- My classmates and I arrived expecting newfound freedom and romantic opportunities, only to discover we weren't nearly as grown-up as we'd imagined.
- Perhaps the most jarring revelation was that 18-year-olds—myself included—were hardly ready for the adult decisions we suddenly faced.
Last week, something my colleagues and I were working on took us back to a time when, like most Kenyans, we imagined university students were the epitome of ‘grown-up’. That is, until we eventually got to university and realised we were not that grown!
There is a glamourised form of adulthood that comes with the idea of coming of age in a university. I think many of us go through primary and secondary school just waiting for ‘the freedom’ that we are told will come when we land in university. We dreamed about passing exams, and then joining a higher institution of learning – a place we were told, there were no bells and our lives would be easier. Legend had it that, as adults in university, we would be left in charge of our time, we would be in total control of our classes and life, and we could go and come as we pleased.
A male colleague shared a heart-breaking and hilarious experience. Besides the expectation of freedom, he had also hoped, going by what he had heard, that he would have a whole menu of beautiful and educated girls to choose from.
“They told us that if we worked hard and got admission into the university, we would be attractive to many girls and they would fight over us. However, once I got to university, and my friends and I tried to talk to girls, they ran away! It was a while before we realised that theory was a fluke,” he said, with a deep sense of disappointment.
My female colleague and I laughed so hard.
“The girls were running away from you guys because we (girls) were told that if we go about speaking to boys about non-academic things, they will ruin our chances of completing university and getting good jobs,” my female colleague quipped, half chocking with laughter.
Come to think of it; does society not set young people up for failure in that sense? Because, if boys are told girls will flock towards them and girls are told to avoid boys because they will get them into trouble…well, perhaps this is not the normal kind of mathematics so I will move on.
My high school regularly sponsored top performing students for trips to visit universities close by. I went to a school in Western Kenya so, I remember visiting the main campuses of Moi University and Masinde Muliro University of Science and Technology while in Form Three and Form Four, respectively. Being selected for such trips was a sign that you were performing well in class and your teachers could see your future in a university.
The goal of those trips was to heighten the desire to perform well and go to the university. But now, looking back, I wonder what the rest of our classmates felt about that selective public validation of the “soon to be university students”. That is perhaps one of the everlasting questions of meritocratic systems, and I am glad I am not the one expected to answer it.
I do not remember much about these trips expect the fact that they filled me with so much aspiration. Walking through the gates of a university for me, as a high school student, had me completely sold out. Everyone we met had a sense of purpose… At that point, I did not know much about what I wanted to study at the university, but one thing was for sure, I wanted to go to university after high school.
A year or so later, I was a bona fide student at Kenya’s premier university, totally excited about learning and being at a place that had the potential of adding finesse to my personality. However, now looking at my fellow first years at close range, I realised they were not as ‘matured’ or as ‘put together’ as they had all seemed on the days my classmates had visited while in secondary school.
There is a meme that says, “the more I grow up the more I realise that 18-year-olds should not be considered adults”. When I look back at my time as a first year, I am glad no one considered my 18-year-old self adult enough to make big decisions concerning my life.
What surprised you the most about university, after you joined?
The writer is the Research & Impact Editor, NMG, [email protected]