How Studying Abroad Taught Me to Quit College – The Cavalier Daily

As nearly a year has passed since I studied abroad at Oxford University last summer, glimpses of my time there have come to mind every day Since. Whether I’m studying for an exam at Clem or meeting a friend at the Corner, all my best memories from abroad flash through my head like an endless reel of film.

While studying for my final exams this week, I realized that despite earning six credits abroad in challenging and challenging courses, I rarely remember my studies. Oxford’s ivy-covered stone library has all the elements required by the ideal aesthetic of dark academia, but I barely remember the few hours I spent inside. Turns out it took me attending one of the most prestigious universities in the world to realize that there’s more to life than studying.

My first day in Oxford was unforgettable. I remember stepping off the red bus and onto the cobblestone sidewalks in complete awe – encountering British accents, quaint tearooms and royal stone buildings on every corner. When night came, despite being awake for over 30 hours and a three-hour walking tour of the city, all my new friends and I stayed up talking, laughing and dancing in the school’s underground bar, Beer Cellar.

Even the first day of class was fun: Instead of the old wooden desks I had imagined, our class had a single sectional couch that my 13 classmates and I all crashed on. My European Union politics professor, Othon Anastasakis, was a cheerful, passionate Greek man who loved to make fun of our American politics. We liked to tease him about his idiosyncrasies. As he said, it was a kind of paradox – if you know, you know.

However, on the second day of classes, the perfection that was my first 48 hours abroad suddenly came to an end. My class was coming back from tea time – the daily program gathering in the main dining room where we pretended to like tea just so we could hold the little china cups – and Othon told us that we would all be making presentations on EU history this week. I drew the unlucky straw and had to present it the next day.

That evening my friends were on a historic pub crawl in Oxford. My project was technically accomplished, but it was not exceptional. So I stayed. I learned everything there was to know about the EU. I made the slideshow beautiful. I called my parents crying while assuring them that I was having the time of my life – the whole nine yards.

The next morning, I killed the presentation. Then I sat down on my square leg of the sectional sofa and realized I didn’t care at all.

A switch flipped in my head – the relief of doing well in the presentation was a mere speck compared to the weight of missing the pub crawl I’d hear about from my friends the following year. I probably could have stressed 50 percent less and still done 95 percent as well. That’s when I decided I no longer wanted to waste half my life to get that extra 5 percent.

This is the mentality I kept for the rest of my time at Oxford. I never said no to any opportunity that would bring me closer to the people I came to love and the place that began to feel like a second home.

In a matter of weeks, we went from a jumble of forty-something students from all over the University to a group of best friends, and we had a great time. Excursions to castles and landmarks, such as the Globe Theater and Stonehenge, filled our days, and visits to our favorite local bar, Hank’s, filled our nights. On weekends we traveled to the breathtaking beaches of the French Riviera, the bustling streets of Paris and London or the iconic pubs and music of Dublin.

Oh, and everyone was in love with each other. And not in the boring college way either, but in the very cute British “let’s go for a romantic walk by the pond” way that I thought only existed in Jane Austen novels. I don’t know if any of these love stories made it back to the States, but the jokes about them certainly did.

Instead of spending six weeks in the library, I spent six weeks basking in the sun and moonlight of Fellows’ Garden, competing – and losing – in a croquet tournament, and gallivanting in the streets, trying not to get hit by all the noises. cars are going the “wrong way”. We secretly walked the forbidden grass of the quad and dressed to the nines at high table dinners and laughed and laughed at our own nonsense. These are moments that will continue to cross my mind forever. I know I won’t even remember my grades.

Back at university, I realized that this mentality doesn’t just apply to life at Oxford. I’ve only had six weeks to soak up all the summer fantasy of Oxford, but we also only have four years to experience all the fantasy vibrancy of university. And – not to get existential – but who knows how much time we have in this life?

So, I treat every day like it’s studying abroad now. I say yes to a long lunch Bodosand I put off reading to go to that show at the Jefferson Theater and consider talking about nothing on the lawn to be “being productive.”

College is all about learning, studying is important and you need to do your homework. Don’t fail your classes, don’t be lazy and whatever else everyone has told you your whole life. But also, don’t say you’ll have fun once you pass your exams, don’t say you’ll be happy once you get good grades, and don’t waste your life in the name of your GPA.

I have a final assignment, a final project, and two final exams this week. It doesn’t matter, I know I’ll do them. For now, I will continue to remember how much I miss the university I had the privilege of exploring last summer and how much I love the one I have the honor of live now.