When I called my parents in my first semester, I would refer to Penn as a foreign, yet well-oiled machine. To others, it was a self-fulling prophecy where stars aligned, and everything fell into place. Everyone already knew how to move through the machine; who to talk to, which clubs to join, and what to wear. To me it was a new world chugging along past me faster than I could get on. Penn felt cold, and fast. Like an iron cast meant to mold us passion-filled and optimistic students into shiny and strategic future investment bankers. How was this my dream school?
One of the first articles I wrote for The Daily Pennsylvanian was titled: “Ivy doesn’t grow in Appalachia,” which detailed my experience feeling like I didn’t fit the mold of a Penn student. Like a foreign object, my body was rejecting Penn. All of my columns critiqued Penn’s culture; too polished, too professional, too performative. I became determined to preserve the self I was before setting foot on campus. I’ll do it to get a high-paying job, but I won’t let Penn change me!
Ah, if only she knew.
At first, I wouldn’t let Penn touch me. SABS? I'm not using that term. Coffee chats? Not doing them. What is Stommons? It’s actually just Starbucks. Networking? I prioritize real connections. Internship? Don’t need it. Social climbing? Ew. Sell out? I wouldn’t dare.
I wasn't a student at Penn, I was an outside observer and critic. I thought I was better than the people changing because I was still me. But when I went home for Christmas and my family remarked: “You haven’t changed a bit” I felt like I'd lost the plot. In fighting off Penn, I was avoiding the growth and exploration that coming to college was meant to give me.
I returned to campus with a goal: stop resisting and start experiencing. I decided to try being a real Penn student, and I let Penn in. What version of me could exist within Penn? What version did I want to be?
I started saying yes. I started using Penn acronyms and learning the neighborhoods of New York (bonus points if I remember the name of the high schools). I stopped cringing when people networked with me, and started going on coffee chats. I bought new clothes (hi, trench coat). I joined new circles and became friends with those vastly different than me. I stopped sitting on the sidelines and started being in the game.
I didn’t become someone else, but I became a better version of me. I'm not suggesting that you should become a network-obsessed Wharton internship junkie who wears Canada Goose with a custom Goyard bag. But, you’re missing out if you don’t learn to pick up new tools and skills that are right at your feet at Penn.
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Penn taught me how to adjust when it seemed impossible. Penn taught me how to make conversation with anyone regardless of background. Penn taught me how to manage time (mostly). Penn taught me how to make new friends. Penn taught me how to get an internship and navigate public transportation, these can’t be such bad skills, right? I picked up what was useful: life wisdom, a new vocabulary, a better wardrobe, and, most importantly, the ability to carve out space for myself in a place I didn’t think had room for me. I didn’t sell out. I grew.
I’ve found a way to remain true to myself here too. I’m still not going into finance or investment banking. I still prefer home-cooked meals than $20 salads. I still make friends for genuine connection. I still haven’t joined clubs just for my resume. Occasionally, I still listen to country music.
Changing the way I viewed Penn, and the way I treated it, made me learn to love it. My goal was never to become what Penn expects. I just needed to take what I needed without letting it change my core. I wasn’t falling into a homogeneous culture; I was adding my own influence. Penn was no longer a cold, mechanic, monolith; It was living, breathing, and mine.
As I leave my first year, I remember the beautiful friendships I’ve formed, the necessary lessons I learned, and the professors I was inspired by. Formative moments of my life sit nestled between the bricks of Locust Walk and in conversations over Spread bagels. As I step into another year, I carry with me the knowledge of navigating Penn, and having transformed it into an ally. My ally.
If you let Penn help you grow and change, it can be yours too.
PIPER SLINKA-PETKA is a College first year studying health and societies from West Virginia. Her email address is pipersp@sas.upenn.edu.
