This past Thursday, I was driving home. It was about 9 p.m., and the Arizonan stratosphere was igniting a spectacle. The sky was chaos; lightning fanned out across miles, and soon the rain began. By the time I reached McClintock from Lot 59, water was hitting the windshield in waves.
So, I did what any illogical free spirit would do: I rolled down the windows and turned up the music.
The rain came in. The smell of dust and moisture rushed by as passing motorists shot me inquisitive stares. It was, by far, the best drive home this year.
But it wouldn’t have been the same if I’d kept the windows up, turned the music down and played it safe.
As I round out my college career, I’m finally taking the general education classes I’ve been putting off for years. Usually, I’m the oldest person in the room (at a wizened twenty-three). Most of my friends would lament a situation like that, to be surrounded with fresh-faced kids who don’t know Discovery Hall from College of Design South.
But, I like to approach it with a positive attitude; in observing and interacting with underclassmen, I’ve been able to make more sense of how my peers and I were back then, as well as now.
Age, if anything, affords a degree of self-awareness. The older you get (ideally), the more you know about who you are, and what you stand for.
At my age, most people know who they are, or are becoming very apt at hiding the fact they don’t.
But at 18 or 19, that clarity is not as pervasive. Inhibition, self-consciousness, hesitation — they are the norm. I can’t properly document here how many fragmented conversations I’ve had with underclassmen in even these first two weeks of school.
I think the root of the problem is fear. People, of any age, want to be accepted and be who they are, or discover who they are, in an environment friendly to that process. If there’s an emotional threat, perceived or real, people shirk away from self-expression.
This might be most noticeable in the young, but rest assured, it’s an ageless problem.
Which is why I take it easy on my underclassmen brethren; at least they’re forthright in their insecurity.
Most of the to-be professionals my age are, at core, still the same scared kids they were at 18 — only now they’re concealed by the cloak of public persona.
I’m by no means immune. We all live in a society where one must project the impression of constant self-assurance, of stoic composure. Openly rocking out in the midst of a rainstorm is the antithesis of composure, but it was up to me to let go and do what I pleased.
So roll down the windows and turn up the music. Those who don’t understand will fade away, and those who do will love you for it.
Alex is under the banner of heaven and can be reached at alexander.petrusek@asu.edu.
