Valuable lessons learned in first six weeks

I can pinpoint the exact moment when I understood just how different college was going to be. On OA I discovered, quite abruptly and without warning, that I was allergic to bee stings. I realized this when I went into anaphylactic shock, finding myself unable to breath and feeling like I was on fire. After being jabbed with an Epipen, I was evacuated and hospitalized. I had to take medication for nearly a month.

I didn't have a cell phone with me on the trip, so the first thing I did when I got back was call my parents to let them know I was all right. When they answered, I found out that they'd never known I'd been stung. I remembered then that when students are over 18 their parents don't need to be notified of medical procedures because we are legal adults. But that the school wouldn't call my family after I nearly died had never occurred to me. Damn. We're not in Kansas anymore, Barry.

I'd been so conditioned by high school that I'd missed the part about becoming legally responsible for myself. It's one thing to academically understand that I'm accountable to nobody; it's entirely different to have that made brutally clear.

Not surprisingly, this lack of oversight has led me to make some rather poor decisions in my first six weeks. Italian midterm at 9 a.m. tomorrow? Screw it: it's Halloween, or at least the Thursday before, I've been studying for three hours already, and I'm hitting the Street in costume. Combine this difficulty staying on top things with two tests on the day after Yom Kippur (the furthest thing from fair I can imagine) and, in short, I'm not making top quintile anytime soon.

This freedom defines college. I'd been warned what to expect but for some reason the concept had never really sunk in. Then, in a moment of confusion brought about by a bee, it was clear. I'm not sure if everyone has a moment like this, but by the end of first semester each of my classmates will truly know that we are alone. Luckily for me I "got it" early on, so hopefully I'm finished with the idiot phase.

In high school all I had to do to get good grades was go to class, pay attention and participate. Homework helped, but would be explained in detail in class.

I tried that same strategy for six weeks here and it didn't work. At Princeton, I'm not smart enough to rely on innate ability. For the first time in my life it will take greater effort on my own time than during class to succeed. It took me six weeks of struggling before I could admit I had to adjust.

Change came quickly. Instead of watching Princeton pummel Penn, I reviewed the definitions of Nash equilibrium and rollback analysis and worked extra hard to (hopefully) ace my econ problem set. Instead of the watching The West Wing, I edited a paper. All this while I'm supposed to be on vacation! I'll still watched my Giants blow out San Francisco, though. Some things I won't sacrifice.

The other thing fueling this recovery is the realization that a curve is no fun. In high school my classmates and I knew that we would receive the grade we'd earned. The value of our work wouldn't be diminished by having smart or hardworking classmates. At Princeton, not only must I do well but I also must perform better than my friends.

This is unpleasant but effective preparation for life outside the Orange Bubble. I will get a job and succeed only if I am superior to the other applicants or my competition. It's not enough to be good; I must be better. I'm very glad I learned this during freshman year, when I can still recover.

Princeton has finally gotten through to me. The threefold lesson of freshman year is becoming clear. I am on my own, come what may. This is tough, and I won't succeed without working much harder than ever before; to succeed, I must be better than my peers. I may not like things this way, but that is the system in which we live, for better or worse. Barry Caro is a freshman from White Plains, N.Y. He can be reached at bcaro@princeton.edu.