An Open Letter to College Students on Their First Day

Congratulations. The time has come. 

Maybe you've been at this awhile. Maybe you're at square one, about to begin your freshmen year.

Perhaps you're reading this in your dorm room, or maybe you're at your parent's place, trying to save money because tuition is just too high. Maybe you're in an apartment, a sorority or fraternity house, your house (big kid status), a condo, a dumpster (desperate times)....whatever.

Maybe you're excited, picturing all of the possibilities that this next year might hold. 

Maybe you're pounding your head against the wall, because summer just wasn't long enough. 

Maybe you're scared. 

Or maybe...maybe you just feel old. You're in college. 

College. 

Kids born in 2000 are entering high school. WHAT IS LIFE?! 

Regardless of how you are feeling, you're about to begin. 

But...what exactly are you about to begin? 

Good question. 

For years you watched your siblings, neighbors, and friends go off to college. You saw the pictures on Facebook of their dorm rooms, their first football games as college students, their first college parties. You listened their stories and dreamed of what your experience would be like, and you eagerly waited your turn. 

Finally, your time came. You packed up the car. Kissed Mom and Dad goodbye. You found your classes, bought your books, and got ready to get an "education". 

But those books can only "educate" you so much. If you're new at this, you'll soon realize that your "education" extends far, far outside of the classroom. You may be "here for school"...but school can only get you so far. It can only grow you so much. 

Regardless of your year or experience, you're about to engage in a series of experiences that will shape you, change you, challenge you, and reward you in ways that you cannot begin to imagine. 

If you're about to begin your freshmen year, in four years, you won't recognize the scared/excited/confused kid now sitting in your dorm room. In just a few short months, maybe even weeks, that person will become a bit of a memory.

And that process isn't always easy. 

But it's worth it. 

I promise. 

Some days you'll just want to quit. Some days, you'll be so frustrated that you won't know what to do with yourself. 

There will be days when you will question every decision you have ever made, and days when you will yearn for a simpler, much less complicated existence. 

There will be days when you feel like you're the only person home alone on Friday night, because social media is blowing up with pictures of people having fun and you're painfully aware of the fact that you are not there.

But you won't be the only one home alone. 

I promise. 

And for every day you question why you are here, there will be a day, a conversation, a class, a moment that reminds you exactly why you came. 

Then it all makes sense. 

You didn't ask my advice, nor will I offer any. But if I had the chance to suggest something to you, here's what I would say: 

Don't just survive. Thrive. Your playing small does not serve the world. You're capable of great things, you just have to believe that you are.  

Find what you are passionate about, find what excites you, and do that. 

Make like Nike and just do it. 

Join a club. Change your major (seriously, everyone does, don't judge yourself for it, I changed mine literally two weeks ago). Minor in something that isn't practical and that makes people question your career goals. Do something that would have confused your high school self. Explore who you are, what you like, and what you want. The time is now. 

Go out even when you don't want to. If you're sleeping, you're missing something. So put yourself out there. Meet everyone, because you can learn something from everyone, and, dang it, everyone needs a friend right now--including you. 

Don't worry that much about the freshmen 15. Just walk to class and you'll be fine. 

Go to class. Please go to class. Just go to class. 

It's ok not to know what you are doing with your life. No one else does, either. Your older friends and siblings that you thought had it together? They didn't. It's all a lie. 

Try, even if you are convinced you'll fail. You'll still learn something from the experience. 

And, whatever you do--live this experience for that kid inside of you that would spend hours daydreaming about college. Do this, all of this, for them. Honor that memory, your memory, and the memories of the people that didn't get this experience or would give anything to go back and do it all again. 

You are competent. 

You are capable. 

And, most importantly....you are ready. 

Here's to future days, challenges, and triumphs. 

kendall