Essay: College is a simulation

I woke up on August 20 to the quiet of an empty dorm room with a few plants and books on the desk, a duffel bag shoved half-heartedly towards the closet and absolutely no idea what to do.

Going out into the world seemed harrowing. That first night in August, I didn’t leave my dorm all day. The following week I had to quietly hype myself up before going to a Welcome Week event. It’s been about three months since then and I, like most others, have more or less found my footing with this newfound independence.

Although my first visit to Target involved fumbling with collapsible grocery bags, dropping my mixed berry yogurt, and muttering a “thank you” to the cashier while vowing never to return, I’ve gotten used to it. There’s not much to be afraid of when you realize that everything you need is within a maximum 10-minute walk.

On the phone with my mother I asked her if she remembered Kidzaniaa theme park in Mexico City where I had once attended a birthday party as a child. It was a city for children, laid out like a small town and everyone could choose a different profession – from firefighters to journalists. Citizens of Kidzania received fake money to spend on groceries or shops.

Looking back, Kidzania is not much different from her student days. The entire experience can be described as a maturity simulation.

Our IDs seemingly have all the features a Loyola student needs to survive. Access to the buildings, dorms and dining halls – essentially a student’s entire life on campus on one small piece of plastic. It can even be used as a glorified credit card with Rambler Bucks, in my eyes the equivalent of Kidzania’s fake paper money.

In many ways, it’s exactly what I thought life would be like as a child. If you asked a 6-year-old to go grocery shopping, his shopping list probably wouldn’t be far from mine: milk, fruit, and a family-sized bag of sour gummy worms.

All my worldly possessions fit in one half of a bedroom. My friends live across the street or a few floors above me. The entire universe has shrunk to the space between West Loyola Avenue and West Granville Avenue.

In other ways, the problems became bigger than I expected. While Kidzania offered jobs making cupcakes or perfumes, the university offers biology labs and courses on obscure Japanese authors.

In the close-knit environment of college, it’s easy to forget that everyone is getting closer to achieving that final milestone before adulthood. Unlike trying out a fake profession, the classes we choose are indicative of what we want to pursue in life.

Perhaps, though, the silliness of the college simulation is perfect for the strange limbo between childhood and adulthood. Just as life is getting more serious, it can be nice to embrace the Kidzania of college.