On Underdeveloped Undergraduates

I have a job on campus.  I’m one of the lucky kids who received federal work study.  Is it demanding?  No.  It is stressful?  Sometimes when I get a paper cut.  Is it “blog-a-ble?”  Ah-yes!

My workplace deals with undergraduates, both current students and admissions candidates.  Now, I’m not going to mention actual names of students I interact with or my co-workers (who are just fabulous), but there are some things that are very much worth mentioning.

Look, I can understand why people want to go to this school.  For years it is pounded into their head that it is “the best” and being admitted here will lead to a life of glamour, intrigue, and those parties where tiny, tiny quiches are served.

Before arriving here, I too had some of those thoughts and how could you not (thankyouverymuch Elle Woods)?  Though, as the months passed and I have interacted with a lot of people here, I can’t help but look at the undergraduates and think, “Are these really the best and brightest?”  Allow we me to provide you with two examples:

1) A kid comes in with a letter and a piece of paper, comments that he needs to mail it.  Blank stares because saying, “Then mail it, douche” isn’t a very kind thing to say.  But here’s the thing:  he didn’t know how to mail a letter.  We had to instruct him how to do it.  He was dumfounded with every step. 

A few of you may be thinking, “How often to people send letters today anymore?” and to that I counter AAA, credit card companies, and friends who are shoving their marriages in your face (Congrats, by the way! Can’t wait!) 

This kid had not a clue on how to address and stamp an envelope.  After the mini-lesson was done, he just stood their, mouth agape. 

“Now what?” he says.

“You mail the letter.”

“How?”

(face slap) “You put it in a mailbox.”

“A what?”

IamnotevenkiddingyoupeopleIswear.

2) Another winner enters with a form all students have to turn in to verify their status.  On it, they have to include the ages of family members.  His head is about to explode.

“I don’t know how old my family is.”

“Um…okay,” the front desk crew says trying hard not to ‘side-eye’ each like Michelle here:

“BUT,” he says, “I do know what year they were born in.”

“Ok,” one of us says and we go back to work.

“My dad was born in 1968.  How old is that?”

Computer says, what?!  Boy, come on.  He just stared at me until I answered, “43.”

“Cool!” and he scribbles it down followed by this question: “How about 1995?”

I provided the ages to his family members, all the while quite surprised that I had to do this in the first place.  Aren’t these kids supposed to be “running the country” someday, like every person on campus tells them from day one of matriculation?

Jennifer Connelly help us.

I guess what this amounts to is that these kids do incredibly well at one thing (like biology or literature or talking about themselves) so much so that all of the other subjects just kind of don’t get as...developed?  Like me and monitoring when to say no to a fourth helping.