Don't hate on your supporters

It’s February. It’s cold. We haven’t had a snow day yet and there are too many days until Little 500.

Those are plenty of good reasons to be salty.

I know that, personally, when second semester rolls around it’s easy to get critical of nearly everything — your classes, your education, the university system at large. I fully admit that this month I’ve been complaining to anyone who will listen about how inadequate everything seems.

I wish that this occasional feeling of general inadequacy was just my experience, but I know that’s not true at all. I’ve had friends complain about going through the commencement ceremony circuit because they felt the University didn’t serve them well enough.

And then I truly realized how immensely selfish that is.

This past weekend I had a rare opportunity. I grew up with three friends, and we were so close people referred to as the Fab Four — dressing as the Beatles for Halloween also helped with this reference. The four of us stayed pretty close until we all went separate ways in college.

Fast forward to senior year and all of the moms decide that they’ll come to each boy, visit his college, take him out to lunch and spend the day with him no matter the distance of the school. This past weekend was my turn, and the women that raised me came to Bloomington to show their support.

And it was this experience that got me out of my cynical rut.

College is more than you. It’s bigger than your classes and your experiences.
No matter what kind of background you come from, your college journey is a conglomeration of work from a myriad of different sources and supporters.

For many of us, college isn’t just our accomplishment — it’s an accomplishment for mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, grandparents, aunts, mentors, teachers and more. So to complain about the university system is not only discrediting work that you’ve done to get to this point, but it’s ignoring all their work, too.

I’m not saying I’ve been the poster-child for parent-son relations. I often forget to call my parents, I like to live my own life and I’ve had my fair share of bitter summers where I’ve acted like an asshat because I’m home and not interning with Vanity Fair in New York. We’ve all been there.

And I’m sure I’ll be like that a few more times throughout my life.

But the important thing is to remember where you came from and take a moment to recognize everyone in your past. No one is self-created, and no journey is only yours.
So as the going gets boring in these dreary months, don’t blame it on IU. Instead, adjust your perception and take a moment to call your mom to tell her “thank you.”

­— sjostrow@indiana.edu