2008 Woodie Awards
A 5th year? Not a Yahtzee
The ugly truth behind taking a 'victory lap'
Chris Dierks
Issue date: 8/31/07 Section: OpEd Page
Myth: Being a fifth-year senior is an amazing experience where all one has to do is stumble to a few classes, be somewhat-conscious or drunk most of the time and not care about anything that doesn't have any direct affects on one's life or future.
Reality: Deciding to be a fifth-year senior is about as sound of an idea as unprotected sex with someone you don't know or love. At the time of this decision, it's a great idea and the results will be pleasing, at least for one party or maybe both. But nine months later, you're kicking yourself in the arse.
Almost a year ago, I started to bat around the idea that I should spend an extra semester or two in college. I could have finished school on time, but it would require two intensive semesters of classes at about 19 credit hours each. For those who know me, you know this really wasn't an option and for those who don't know me, I'm a bit lazy with an appetite for barley beverages and late nights. The extension of my college career would allow me to take more classes I was interested in as well as maintaining, if not improving my GPA. This was my thought process and began to put together a plan which I immediately put into action. Not going to lie though, the first and hardest step was selling this idea to my father. After a few weeks of discussion and the constant threat of being disowned, I finally sold him on the idea. The hardest part was behind me and all that was left for me to do was actually take the classes and graduate.
I was wrong.
As I sit here writing this piece, I should illustrate the scene around me: There are about six fifth-year seniors outside in our driveway drinking and playing beer pong (don't worry, we put our table away every night so OPD doesn't make us grab our ankles), completely fulfilling the "fifth-year dream." This is a typical Tuesday evening for us and will later result in going uptown to country night or "Shadium." The blinding irony of witnessing and participating in excessive drinking and drinking games while writing this makes me chuckle. At the same time, it's something that I can't ignore as being an issue.
Reality: Deciding to be a fifth-year senior is about as sound of an idea as unprotected sex with someone you don't know or love. At the time of this decision, it's a great idea and the results will be pleasing, at least for one party or maybe both. But nine months later, you're kicking yourself in the arse.
Almost a year ago, I started to bat around the idea that I should spend an extra semester or two in college. I could have finished school on time, but it would require two intensive semesters of classes at about 19 credit hours each. For those who know me, you know this really wasn't an option and for those who don't know me, I'm a bit lazy with an appetite for barley beverages and late nights. The extension of my college career would allow me to take more classes I was interested in as well as maintaining, if not improving my GPA. This was my thought process and began to put together a plan which I immediately put into action. Not going to lie though, the first and hardest step was selling this idea to my father. After a few weeks of discussion and the constant threat of being disowned, I finally sold him on the idea. The hardest part was behind me and all that was left for me to do was actually take the classes and graduate.
I was wrong.
As I sit here writing this piece, I should illustrate the scene around me: There are about six fifth-year seniors outside in our driveway drinking and playing beer pong (don't worry, we put our table away every night so OPD doesn't make us grab our ankles), completely fulfilling the "fifth-year dream." This is a typical Tuesday evening for us and will later result in going uptown to country night or "Shadium." The blinding irony of witnessing and participating in excessive drinking and drinking games while writing this makes me chuckle. At the same time, it's something that I can't ignore as being an issue.
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