Written by Jess Ardrey
Case in point.”Superbabies: Baby Geniuses 2.”
That being said, I’ve observed and/or been a part of various failed experiences and/or friendships since I’ve been here. To be fair, some of the relationships you make freshman year will be your closest friends throughout your college career.
But then again, we’ve all got those people we were friends with freshman year with whom we now avoid eye contact on the sidewalk, despite the fact that we know he totally just broke up with Jennifer because we still Facebook stalk him on the regular. Let’s be honest, your freshman posse was a ragtag wolfpack of rugby players and mathletes.
But the point is you learned from that. You’ve learned alot of things since then, like, if it’s chicken nugget day in the caf, there’s no dilly-dallying to be had after class. Seriously, the wisdom you’ve acquired is enough to fill tiny volumes that you’ll never use in real life, but will enjoy telling your kids, who will promptly roll their eyes and respond with “01101100 01101111 01101100.” (That’s binary code for “lol.” No, seriously. Look it up.)
Now, I’ve spent the past school year analyzing and generally poking fun at the whole of the student body. Call it an independent study.
According to my findings, the average Harding kid is a Chik-fil- A-loving, Chaco-wearing, thrifty YouTube connoisseur who reads Rowling, Tolkien and Claxton and can be found at any time pranking his Spring Sing directors in a Texas-bound Winnebago.
ButI’mnotascientist, oranything, so you don’t have to take my word for it.
Think about it. You’d like that kid. He’s fun and chill and kind of dorky and his name is probably Zach.
Zach is what you love about Harding. Zachgoestoyourfunctions. Zach sits with you at Midnight Oil. Zach plays in the rain with you. Zach has the funniest chapel tweets.
Zach is the one who got you through biology, and Zach is the one whom you’re going to miss the most when you graduate.
Now, if you were awake for my speech in chapel, then you probably know exactly where this is going.
Speaking of which,”skyrocketing” is the only term that most applies to the number of exchanges since last week that have played out thus:
“Hi, my name is Kenny.” “Hey, I’m Jess.” “Oh, I know.” Granted, it is a little weird, but notnearly as unsettling as the people I’ve never seen before who address me by my full name. Flattering? Sure. Alfred Hitchcocky? You bet your last scrap of DCB, it is.
But let’s bring back the Harding train.This is what I’ve come to learn: Your time at Harding is as good as you want it to be. Despite the occasional crummy day, the quality of your experience is directly related to your attitude.
And that’s the secret, everybody. That’s it.
Well, bros and bettys, we’ve made it. Last fall I stumbled through a clumsy column about an irresistible and tasty poultry treat. Eighteen issues later and I’m stumbling through a clumsy column about the entirety of a college experience.
I think you guys know that “what Hardingmeanstome” can’treallybe boiled down into a snippet in a bi- weekly college newspaper. And yet, it’s odd to think how much those snippets have shaped my last year here.
Whether you know it or not, I’ve been revealing myself a little more throughout these columns. Oh, yes. I like sidewalk chalk. I like social clubs. I like a whole lot of super dorky things.
I am a Harding kid. And I like it.
JESS ARDREY serves as the opinions editor for the 2010-2011 Bison. She may be contacted atjardrey@harding.edu
