When I applied to Penn, it was almost offhanded. There was not a bone in my body that believed I had a chance. When decisions were released, I hid in my room as my parents waited downstairs, threatening to open the decision themselves if I continued stalling. I begrudgingly agreed — hold the cameras, no need to document the disappointment.
But then virtual streamers flooded my screen. My mom screamed beside me. My dad repeated, “I knew it, I had a feeling” — and none of it felt real. Not that day, not that night, not even the first couple of nights I spent on campus.
The Daily Pennsylvanian felt the same way: unexpected.
For something that is undoubtedly the pinnacle of my college experience, I strangely don’t remember what first drew me in. I probably wanted to be a part of something. Yes, to gain experience in communications, but more so to join a group that didn’t have an intimidating barrier to entry. And with that, I submitted my application to the DP’s social media and copy departments.
I don’t remember what I thought of 4015 Walnut the first time I walked the halls I eventually would seldom go a day without seeing. I don’t even think I noticed the office was windowless and somewhat dreary. But so it began: scheduled two-hour shifts turned to four, turned to six, until there were nights when I entered the office with no end time in sight.
It was the unexpectedness of it all that made the experience so significant.
It was unexpected when I found myself inside the Capitol Building amid national controversy over antisemitism on college campuses, our own University president at its epicenter. I, unqualified and unsuspecting, was handed a camera, given directions, and sent into the depths of the Capitol to photograph a press conference preceding the congressional hearing. As it turns out, it’s hard to sneak into the Capitol — and even harder when you’re not entirely sure why you’re there if someone asks.
I joined a group, hoping they’d lead me to the conference room, and they did. The conference began, punctuated by a few glances each time my camera’s shutter went off — I had no idea how to turn it off — and by a handful of conversations with other student reporters. Afterwards, I parked myself under a tree on the Hill to post an update — my own photo featured.
It was, then, unexpected when the social media editor made a byline on one of the most important stories the DP would publish that year.
It was equally unexpected when, on no particular Saturday, I asked our photo editor if I could tag along and photograph the men’s basketball team. Kneeling under the net, I gave it my best shot with the only training being my former escapade in the nation’s capital. While it didn’t make it as the dominant photo for the DP’s reporting of the game itself, months later, it would be the photo for another story.
Did it mean anything to the average reader that my name was there? No. But it brought me great joy and pride, however modest.
And despite knowing it was imminent, it was unexpected when I got a call from our editor-in-chief at 5:45 a.m., telling me Penn’s encampment was about to be disbanded, and to stand by for updates from reporters on the scene. I spent the day coordinating live updates, working alongside our team to push posts out in real time to keep our community informed. That coverage went on to earn recognition at the Associated College Press as Multimedia Story of the Year.
Despite my inclination toward risk aversion, the unexpectedness of it all was something that I couldn’t tear myself away from. And each day I returned.
So, embrace not only what you expect, but what I’ve come to think of as the “unexpectations” — not bracing for the unexpected, but staying open enough that when it arrives, you don’t flinch. Because in all of those expectations, there is a world to learn.
Maybe you’ll learn how to silence your shutter at a national press conference, or you’ll make the friends who will carry you throughout your four years here. Maybe you’ll gain applicable skills or otherwise have experiences that make you a more thoughtful, intentional person.
Leaning into unexpectations doesn’t just shape what you do; it shapes who you become. And despite the many, often competing measures of success that punctuate your time at Penn, the one that endures is simple: the kind of person you choose to be, and how you show up to become that person.
So try the thing you don’t yet know how to do. Try the thing you may never know how to do. Expect the learning curve, and live by the unexpectations. It might change your life. Or, at the very least, it will change you.
JADA EIBLE HARGRO is a College senior studying communications and consumer psychology from Haddonfield, N.J. She served as the social media editor on the 140th Board of The Daily Pennsylvanian, Inc. Previously, she served as a social media deputy editor. Her email is jadaeh@sas.upenn.edu.
