It is the third week of school, and the campus is already looking like the cast of The Walking Dead. Seriously, complete with makeup and everything.
You might ask me why I brought this up. And I wouldn’t blame you either: fatigue goes with ALA like an aching bottom with a bean bag. But, what is concerning about this case of necromancy is the fact that it has happened so soon. In addition to that, we have only had one and a half weeks of class. The first week was instead occupied by mellow conversation on the meaning of religion and validity of feminism, followed by even more peaceful chats about how sexual harassment was not only tagged to one gender. The fact that not a single fist fight broke out should have raised the red flag.
Of course, I formulated a theory about this. Throughout this holiday, most second students were spread thinly over the bread of college applications, and the somewhat burnt toast of a courage assessment, meant to break us out of our comfort zones. In basic, if you were a diligent, non ED student, you probably had to sacrifice quite a bit of holiday. If you weren’t, however, then you had to do all of this in the space of a very tightly packed two weeks.
But, besides the fatigue factor that is weaved into this, my primary point leads to one very specific assignment: college. As the January deadlines began to roll in, the amount of cares that an ALA student could give began to drain slowly out of their emotional wallets.
This leads to a lot of things: New Year resolutions are thrown out for care-saving, paying attention in class becomes care-expensive, and eventually, even enthusiasm becomes too high an expense for the standard second year. Of course, this leads to the general student body looking like a George Romero convention.
But who am I to judge? Let’s be honest with ourselves here: as the final college applications were submitted, the end of the end of the second year rainbow, the prospect of college, was unchangeable. Unless you were an ED student, most did not need to care anymore. There is nothing more to look forward to, besides an acceptance letter, the occasional party and random monkey attacks.
Can you blame them for their behavior? By the end of the two year drudge, the acceptance letter becomes a final milestone of sorts. And though it is not, I honestly feel that it would be worse if we didn’t: with this thought, there is at least a small glint of optimism amongst the undead horde.
By Dani Paul Hove