Advertisement

Op Eds

Twenty-One Years Young

“Little one,” said my dad. “No one does. You’ll be okay—just remember the three rules of civilization.”

How could I forget? First, commit not that gravest of sins—you must always replace the toilet paper roll behind you when you’ve finished one. Second, when you’re eating party mix, you must eat whatever your hand falls on. No picking out the Cheetos and leaving the pretzels. And third, when there’s prime rib on the menu, get it.

But where do we find purpose and meaning? What if we don’t like consulting? In his graduation address to Stanford’s class of 2005, Steve Jobs advised, “You can’t connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards.” I quite like Dots, especially the red ones, but Jobs doesn’t offer us much in the way of strategy.

The best piece of advice I’ve come across is Judith Shapiro’s: “You want the inside of your head to be an interesting place to spend the rest of your life.” If it is, life is an adventure—the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune are plot points, not tragedies. If you’re a human, they’re an opportunity to build and discover character. If you’re a friend, they’re an opportunity to get closer to those who are friends to you. And if you’re a writer, they’re material.

Twenty-one, for me, doesn’t mean much; but sitting here on the cusp of adulthood, I can’t help but be apprehensive. Free will may be an illusion, but it’s as real to me as anything, and I intend to get my money’s worth.

Advertisement

So—what to do with my 21-year-old self? I honestly don’t know. I can’t get myself the thing I always wanted growing up, at least until Harvard approves species-neutral housing. The thing I secretly hoped for, even though my apartment building didn’t allow them; the thing I didn’t dare ask for because it seemed to make my parents sad.

But I know what I’ll do for my 22nd birthday. When I’m a senior, and spring is in the air and nostalgia in the Kool-Aid, I’ll be headed to the pound to find a puppy to spoil rotten.

Happy birthday, little one.

Lisa J. Mogilanski ’15, a Crimson editorial writer, is an economics concentrator in Currier House. Follow her on Twitter @lisamogi

Tags

Recommended Articles

Advertisement