I nearly did not attend Penn. When I applied to Penn my senior year, I was initially wait-listed. By May 1, I made a commitment to attend Duke University and prepared myself to be a Blue Devil for the next four years. A week later, I received a call from the Penn admissions office. They were planning to admit a handful of people off the 400-person waiting list, and I was among them.
When I arrived at Penn, I was determined to have the ultimate "Penn experience." I was going to do everything that I had read about in admissions brochures -- the things that Penn students were supposed to do. I would do genetics research with professors, have classes on College Green on beautifully sunny days, and be a proud member of the Glee Club. (It was a sad day when I realized the Glee Club was an all-male group. I've managed to recover with extensive therapy and hypnosis).
Now that I'm graduating, I've come to realize that there really is no common Penn experience. I suppose there are a few memories most of us share, such as strolling down Locust Walk. But the experience of each Penn student is so unique as to defy stereotyping. We may believe that there is a Penn prototype; we may proudly try to exemplify it, or we may cringe at what we think it represents. But in the end, it is all a mirage. It is an idea that labels us without assessing our individuality and limits us without acknowledging our possibility.
For current students, I would encourage you to define your own Penn experience. Don't let people tell you what you're "supposed" to do because you're a Penn student, because you're from New Jersey, you grew up on welfare, you're a woman, you're Jewish, or Latino, or gay. Take risks -- go abroad, join offbeat clubs, try skydiving, join the Glee Club or apply to be a DP columnist. Most importantly, take the risk of loving and reaching out to other people.
In some ways, all of this may seem obvious. The phrase "Nothing risked, nothing gained" has become an old and tired platitude. Nonetheless, it's so easy to stay within your comfort zone.
In the past year, I have written 29 columns about topics including roommate conflicts, military recruitment, campus awareness weeks and Christianity. There were other columns that I wanted to write but never had time to include. I hoped to write about Penn-West Philly relations, about campus protests, tort reform and the annoyance of Huntsman Hall computers being limited to Wharton students.
I thank you for indulging me on these pages. I appreciate the ideas that you have brought to my attention through your online comments and e-mails. Writing columns was harder than I expected, and I'm not sure if my views have any consistent angle (for those who have been guessing my political affiliation, I'm a moderate). However, if my writing has a theme, it would be to encourage people be honest to themselves and to refuse to be defined.
After graduation, I hope to continue encouraging people to explore. I have joined Teach for America for a two-year commitment as a bilingual-education teacher in an inner-city New York school. It's a risk for me, and one that I hope will be fruitful.
A tremendous amount has changed since my high school graduation, when I switched from being a Blue Devil to that oxymoronic character, the Fighting Quaker. There are many risks that I wish I had taken, but did not. I hope that you will take them for me.
Jennifer Weiss is a senior Linguistics and Theatre Arts major from Los Angeles. War On Error appears on Wednesdays.
