I wrote this work for my final writing project in my English writing class. I wanted to let my story be heard, to narrate the transition from high school to college. There are a dearth of writings explicitly showing the changes a young adult goes through. My peers each too have their own unique stories, and mine is just one of the many out there. I write to consolidate my thoughts and experiences, to analyze my growth and changes, and to hopefully be in a better position to understand myself at the end. My paper can also elucidate on the modern college experience, and potentially be helpful for current high school students looking forward to college, as well as illustrating to those beyond college how university has changed and how college students think. Finally, I write so my peers know they are not alone in their journeys, that many people are just as confused and undecided as they are. I incorporated a casual, somewhat linear but jumpy journal style of writing, as if posting each section on a new day of a blog. I organized sections by units I learned in Cell Biology, because I find that biology really is life itself, and it is the subject that has captivated my interests. I also added in some of what I have learned in my other classes. College, in the end, is about learning, whether in the classroom or out. Both are vital, and I strive to show how they intermingle, and how they have helped my development as a person. Everything, I have found, is related.
Origins
What is a cell? According to Webster’s 9th Collegiate Dictionary, it is a small usually microscopic mass of protoplasm bounded externally by a semipermeable membrane, usually including one or more nuclei and various non-living products, capable alone of interacting with other cells, of performing all the fundamental functions of life, and forming the least structural unit of living matter capable of functioning independently. It is the smallest building blocks that make us who we are, and what relates us to the smallest tardigrade floating in space. Small and numerous, yet each impossibly intricate and complex. But how and why did such complex machinery, the cell, come into existence? How do we, as people, as young adults, as students, change and develop as we enter and go through the experience known as university?
I didn’t expect to come to University of Virginia. I had attended a magnet school, Thomas Jefferson High School for Science and Technology. There, near half the school made UVA, and the top 10% were considering to typically make at least one of the top ten universities or programs. In high school, my dream was always to make it to one of the Ivy Leagues or a joint medical school program, to prove to myself that I was part of that 10%. I remember nervously waiting in front of my computer for admission decisions, hand twitching on the mouse, refreshing my email.
As the days went by one by one, I was crushed to receive rejection after rejection. I had received an interview for the Honors Program in Medical Education, the joint medical school program from Northwestern. That was the furthest I had gotten. Harvard, Princeton, Rice/Baylor medical program, Brown, George Washington Medical Program, Washington University of St. Louis…I had applied to 13 schools. An unlucky number looking back on it. In the end, I was accepted in William and Mary, Rice University, and University of Virginia.
I visited Rice University. My family had heard that it was easier to get into medical school in Texas, owing to its large medical schools and proclivity for accepting in-state students. The day I was scheduled to tour the university, Houston flooded. My mom’s friend, the mother of the family who let us stay with them for the visit, had remarked, “Wow, Houston floods maybe once to twice a year. Unlucky you caught it!” Unlucky. There it was again. Seeing this as a sign, I decided to attend UVA. The perk of being an Echols, its proximity to home, and the fact I had eighty classmates attending as well as the many at nearby schools swayed me.
My boyfriend, Jason, who I had started dating in junior year, would be attending Virginia Tech. I was disappointed he did not make UVA, but Virginia Tech was close enough right? I harbored my doubts though…I always thought he didn’t focus enough academically, and college admissions seemed to prove it.
First glance, UVA was red brick and colonial. A quick tour on Days of the Lawn just reaffirmed that fact. I went with my friends Mira, Lisa, and Yeongju. On the ride back home, Yeongju confirmed her decision to attend Carnegie Mellon University. Lisa followed suit, saying, “I wasn’t given decent financial aid, and UVa didn’t make me an Echols Scholar. Additionally, I felt more at home at CMU. I’m a nerd after all.” Mira and I stayed quiet. Her words seemed foreboding of a radically different environment at UVa than the one we were used to back in high school. Would we fit in?
Orientation Day came soon enough. Sorted into a group, I felt awkward, out of place. Frankly, I don’t remember the name of anyone who was in my Orientation group, nor the name of my Orientation leader. We signed up for classes and had activities, but the most striking thing I remember is the amount of freedom I had in choosing coursework and my plans for the night. I bothered Dean Cole and the Orientation leaders on whether I should take Cell Biology, and what English course to take. “Follow your heart.” Well. That’s helpful.
I decide to take Cell Biology despite concerns that it may be challenging for a first semester first year. I know I can handle it, I ranked top twenty-five in the nation for Biology Olympiad. I fill the rest of my schedule with premed requirements. In the end, I have to choose between Writing as Medicine and Advanced Academic Writing. The latter fitted my schedule better, so I take the jump and tentatively fill it on my gridded sheet. Frankly, Advanced Academic Writing doesn’t tell me anything, and I just hope it is not too dry.
After confirming my courses, I stayed in my temporary dorm room and browsed the Internet until 2 AM. There was something going on at the…what was it…AFC? But I was too tired and antisocial to leave the bed. My Orientation roommate didn’t come back. I shut off the lights.
First day on campus, I moved in on Saturday. My roommate, Mira, an old friend from high school, had gotten there before me. She took the better half of the room. Oh well.
We had to attend some mandatory events. I don’t remember some of them, but the emphasis on the UVA honor system couldn’t be denied. I didn’t believe in it. It was just some fancy committee made up of frat boys, and people would still cheat in order to get ahead, right?
I was actually inspired by the Green Dot presentation given by the duo of women. Though I would consider myself a cynical person, I felt that this could actually make a difference. Awareness was the first step.
Not On Our Grounds was a performance of various skits addressing some “common” college issues. Promoting tolerance of those with different personalities, sexualities, and races, it was a decently entertaining way to convey the moral message. I learned a new term – self-segregation. Is that the trend I have noticed all this time? From elementary to high school, I notice that typically, the white kids would hang out with white kids, the Oriental Asians with the Orientals, and the Indians with the Indians. Would that be the same here? I talked mainly with Mira, my high school friend, and Kirtana, a Nepali girl. Was it starting already?
We had discussion among our hall introducing each other and talking about sensitive topics. One was about race.
I looked around UVA, my dorm, my hall. Why was everyone so white? My old high school had an over 50% Asian population. My hall had a riveting discussion about how diverse UVA was and accepting of non-white people. When asked to raise our hands if our high school had a majority non-white population, only Mira, Taylor (another friend), and I raised our hands. I looked around at the three Indians, three Chinese, and two African Americans out of my twenty-two hall mates. I didn’t talk at all. Maybe this was the real normal out of the bubble of my high school back in Alexandria, Virginia.
I have never been a particularly social person, and on the Myers-Brigg test, a personality test back in high school, I had received 100% introversion. Eating dinner with my hall mates, talking to my RA, going to events at the AFC (I learned it stood for Aquatic and Fitness Center), I found it hard to click with people and to have fun. This was just so different. It was just the beginning, but I already had my misgivings…
Choices
The plasma membrane is composed of lipids and proteins, separating the interior of the cell from the environment it resides in. Its main constituent is phospholipids, molecules with a hydrophilic/polar head and a hydrophobic/nonpolar tail. Phospholipids spontaneously form bilayers – two layers of phospholipids, their heads pointing outward, like the cookie in an ice cream sandwich while the tails form the ice cream portion. It’s most important feature is its selective permeability, regulating the passage of various particles into and out of the cell. It was one of most early benchmarks in the growth of cells. If a cell could not control what came in and what came out…then how could it control its own development? Deciding what cellular processes to undertake is the greatest choice a cell must make. It will determines its life…and death. Maybe it’s not so dramatic, but what we choose to “let in” and “throw out”, what we choose to do, in terms of courses, of activities, of who to hang out with…they all inevitably determine our lives.
Before classes start, I visit the activity fair. Rows and rows of tables and trifolds, and masses of people blocking every step of the way. I methodically make my way up and down the aisles, picking up flyers, cups, and signing up onto the listservs of all the ones that I even had remote interest in. I probably signed up for more than thirty?
Back in the dorm room, Mira sat on the edge of her bed swinging her legs. I sat at my desk, facing my computer, looking at all the emails I was getting. “Hey Chelsea.”
“Yea?”
“I want to join the chess club.”
“That sounds great to me! Go for it.”
“But I heard all they actually do is drink alcohol.”
I was speechless for a moment, before replying sardonically, “I guess UVA really is a party school, huh?” I remember what Lisa said in the car back on Days on the Lawn and the ominous feeling I had had before. It really was coming true.
Deciding what activities to commit to was a struggle. What would I let in and what would I kick out? I procrastinated on the decisions as late as I could, signing up for more information and going to interest meetings for even the ones I was sure I wouldn’t want to do. Did I really want to join a professional Chemistry fraternity? Did I really want to be a Residential Leader of my dorm? How many Madison House volunteering activities did I want to be in? What is College Council, why do they have $100,000 to spend, and why do they want me? Is it worth to join a pre-med honor society? And why was there so many cultural organizations if they didn’t really even do anything worthwhile? How would I get a research position?
Shifting my focus from extracurriculars to academics, I spend time walking and biking in between buildings where my classes were. Cell Biology in Gilmer to Introduction to Sociology and Bioethics Lecture in Wilson. Physics Lecture and Lab were in the Physics Building, and Chemistry Lab was in the Chemistry building. English and Bioethics Discussion were in New Cabell. Or was it Old Cabell? Were they different buildings?
I sat in on a few classes. The first class of university I ever took was Cell Biology. As I walk in, the slide up front was displayed in all its magnificent brilliance, of cells of all colors and forms. A quote from Lewis Thomas describing what a cell was entranced me from the start. “imponderably strange complex, and filled with strange parts.” It sounded like a person. It sounded like me. I couldn’t wait to take this class.
I put my classes back to back whenever I could, and switched from a 9 AM physics lecture to an 11 AM. There was no way I could wake up at 9 AM twice a week – heck, even 11 AM was pushing it. I dropped Introduction to Sociology after a tiring bike ride from Gilmer to Wilson Hall, picking up a University Seminar on Cloning after getting off the waitlist. The professor teaching this seminar, Dr. Wormington, was also the teacher of my Cell Biology class. I thought maybe if I got to know him I could potentially get a research position or a recommendation for future applications. The first day of the University Seminar, I walk into class a few minutes late. SIS said the class was in room 200 of PLSB. What the heck was PLSB? Asking a few students, I finally make my way to the Physical and Life Sciences building. It was shiny and new, with laboratories scattered about. I peered into the glass panes, fascinated at what magic could be going on in there. I want to do research. That much, I was sure.
I end up nominating myself as running for a position on First Year Council. It seemed like running for Association Council would be more competitive, and knowing my popularity, I wouldn’t stand a chance for that. I barely knew the names of the people in my hall. I had heard that last year, over forty people had run for Association Council and First Year Council. Chances were slim, but hey, at least I tried! Part of me wanted the title for resume material, but another part was truly interested in what it would be like to be a “leader.” I had never had any leadership positions on any clubs or councils back in high school, and my friends and I complained about how the popular would win elections even though they didn’t represent a majority of the class. But I know we were a little bit jealous inside. My roommate Mira scoffed when I told her what I had done. “You’re too similar to me Chelsea, and let’s be real, I won’t even bother trying.”
I end up winning the position. If you can call it winning. Three people ran for the three positions. The only condolence I had was that I didn’t have the least amount of votes. Now I had to go the Residential Leadership retreat with the popular people in my dorm who had won the other positions. What had I gotten myself into?
In regards to Madison House, I end up signing up for a few volunteering activities. The priority was Medical Services, volunteering at the hospital. If I was interested in getting into medical school, medical volunteering is vital. The four tenets of getting into medical school, after all, were academics, volunteering, research, and shadowing. It seemed like everyone knew it too – signing up for a position with Medical Services was, in plain terms, a pain in the ass.
We had to turn in several forms and complete a personality test that would tell us what Medical Service volunteering jobs were suitable for us. They used a DNA base system, with jobs labelled as A, G, C, or T. I get G. They wouldn’t tell us what each base meant, but it was pretty obvious that A was for the social independent people, while C was for those who were shy and needed precise instructions. I exaggerate my comfortability around strangers on the quiz, and I get a G, right in the middle of the two. After that process, we were all assigned a random sign up time were we had to go to the physical Madison House location and sign up. My time? 2:00 PM. My roommate gets 2:30 PM.
When I get there, I nervously wait with all the other 2:00 PM people to sign up. The minute the clock hits 2, we rush to the attendant, turning in more forms and our vaccination records. We are led to the basement, with bored upperclassmen holding up signs of what must be different medical units. Only three signs were left hanging, meaning that all the other units must have been filled up with volunteers already. I run to the sign labelled Cardiac Unit, only to find that none of the available slots fit my schedule. By the time I figured that out, I was one of few people left in the room. I go to the last sign remaining: Escort and Wayfinding. I don’t really know what it is, but I put my name for the Friday 4 PM – 7PM shift. It’s the only thing left.
I also signed up to coach four year olds at soccer, though I had wanted an older age group. I had coached a group of kids four years younger than me for over four years back in high school, and I would rather have children who would listen to me and actually be able to learn soccer. However, I wanted to keep soccer in my life, so I went ahead with the commitment.
I get interviewed by Parker Moore for a position on College Council. He’s a nice guy, asking what extracurriculars I was involved in and what I thought could make College Council better. I tell him that they need to step up their advertising, because I still don’t really know what they do and why they are important. He bashfully agrees, and I leave the room with a smile on my face. I don’t know whether I would make it, but it was a fun experience nevertheless. I pause. What. When did I think being interrogated by a person was fun? I end up making College Council as well, but my joy is diminished by the fact over half the interviewees made it. Was it worth doing an activity that I was able to join this easily?
I sign up for a few Asian organizations and send in my application to do undergraduate biology research through the UNLEASH program. God only knows what the outcomes of that will be.
Routine
There is a flurry of activity going on in each and every cell inside us. They are moving newly synthesized proteins from the cytosol, the gooey gel within the cell, to the endoplasmic reticulum, the floppy tire like structure connected to the nucleus, to the plasma membrane for excretion. They are taking in glucose to degrade and utilize for energy. Waste products are sent to the late endosome for sorting, then finally to the lysosome to be acidified. No pathway only has one direction, and no process only goes one way. A protein can be secreted or degraded, sent to the plasma membrane or back to the endoplasmic reticulum. It is a well-oiled machine, every part doing its duty to keep the cell on schedule. It does its duty to keep us on track, to be able to perform our day to day routines, be it volunteering, playing soccer, or interacting with friends, juggling our commitments as we try to make it through every passing day. One by one… That is until something goes majorly wrong.
I’ve decided Cell Biology is my favorite class. We were learning about protein transport and trafficking, the third and fourth units out of the nine in this class. The sheer number of processes occurring in just one second within just one of our cells amazed me. How could it keep track of everything? I could barely keep up with my own activities and workload. I was probably working my cells to the bone, considering how stressed I was, the lack of a regular sleep cycle, and a definitely unhealthy diet with my unlimited dining hall meal plan. We had just finished learning about the plasma membrane, a true life lesson in itself.
However, I also enjoy my University Seminar on Cloning and have been inspired by my English writing class and find bioethics and physics almost interesting. I just like all my classes. Darn. How will I ever choose what I want to do with my life?
I wake up at 8:40 to my blaring phone alarm. I press the power button to snooze it. Ah. Bliss. A harsh knock on my door. I stumble over and open it. My roommate sits under her bed on her fuzzy rug, headphones in, working on economics or something on her laptop. Or is she watching YouTube videos? I can never tell. My hall mate, Kirtana, is there. I look over at the clock. It reads 8:46. Oops. She trundles in and plops in my chair. It’s become routine now, she does this every day we have Cell Biology in the morning at 9 AM, on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Unless she or I decide to skip class. I quickly brush my teeth, change, pack my backpack, and off we go to Gilmer. We sit down at 9:01 AM. Close enough. Time to transcribe this lecture and ace the next exam. I need to.
I stopped going to bioethics lectures. Dr. Flores is a nice professor passionate about her subject. But she literally reads off her PowerPoints and posts them online. Why waste time coming to class when I can study the slides myself in my dorm in the fraction of the time?
Speaking of Religious Bioethics (the formal name of the class), I would say I’m agnostic. I have some Christian roots, coming from a Christian private school when I was younger. I’m interested in religion, but I never truly saw it from their perspective and arguments. I would say I was almost mocking, to the chagrin of my Catholic ex-boyfriend. Bioethics, a class I took as a requirement, opened my eyes in some ways. To what extent should genetic engineering be allowed? For curing a disease? Is a predilection to obesity a disease? Is abortion morally justified?
The rule of double effect is a Catholic concept on whether an action that causes harm is ethical. First, the nature of the act must be good, or at least morally neutral. Second, the agent must intend the good effect, not the bad effect, either as the final ends or means. Lastly, the good effect must outweigh the bad effect. For example, removing the tubes of a woman with an ectopic pregnancy is acceptable because the death of the embryo was a side effect, while performing a craniotomy on a fetus being born is unacceptable, because the death of the fetus is the means upon which to save the mother. The differences are subtle, but I have come to appreciate them, despite initially believing the principle was based on false premises. I would like to believe it has made me a more understanding individual.
I got an 86 on my first Cell Biology test. I was kind of disappointed. To be honest, I didn’t study until two hours before the test, but I still expected to do fine. Maybe I had underestimated UVA.
I did, however, get a 19 out of 20 on my physics test. I had thought I was bad at physics. Maybe I wasn’t so terrible after all!
English class has been the greatest surprise. I had thought it would be strict, writing academic papers for journals of varying types. Make no mistake, we did read some articles, but we also read narratives and prose, letters and essays, textbooks and whatever else out there. The emphasis was on finding passion and writing what comes naturally to us. That’s how I think writing should be, and I think it may have reignited my love for words once again, a feeling I haven’t experienced since middle school.
I joined too many extracurricular activities. I volunteer at UVA Hospital, “coach” four year olds at soccer on the weekends, and work on counseling others. I join First Year Council and College Council, which somehow translates to four meetings a week. I get interviewed and accepted as an undergraduate researcher at the lab working on biomedical engineering for stem cell research. In a search for friends and acceptance, I sign up for UVa’s Asian organizations, such as Organization for Young Filipino Americans (OYFA), Chinese Student Association (CSA), Taiwanese Student Association (TSA), and Vietnamese Student Association (VSA). What am I doing with my life?
My schedule is hectic. Those who see my Google calendar gasp with horror. I shrug. It’s just another day in the life of Chelsea Li.
Relationships
How did eukaryotic cells, with their distinctive membrane-enclosed organelles appear? The endosymbiosis theory postulates that prehistoric eukaryotes essentially “ate” bacterial cells, and over time, they simply became part of who we are. Proof include that mitochondria and chloroplast have their own genes, replicate themselves, and are genetically similar to bacteria. But was it really that simple…? New genetic analysis shows only 10-20% of mitochondrial DNA match those of the supposed engulfed ancient bacteria. The rest came from other prokaryotes, other eukaryotes, and nearly a quarter of the genome is unique. The new theory is that there were multiple endosymbiotic events, and then horizontal gene transfer occurrences, essentially, throwing together a bunch of microorganisms and their DNA somehow mixed together to form the mitochondria we have in each of our cells today. Indeed, nothing is ever truly that simple, especially regarding interspecies (and interpersonal) relationships. It is the mixing of all the different influences that makes us who we are today, both the cells in our body and our personalities, our beliefs, and our dreams.
I had asked an upperclassman at Orientation whether academics were hard at UVA. “Hmm…” she had pondered. “Actually, the social aspect is more challenging for me.” I stifled a snort. College was for learning. Who needed people? I wouldn’t be one of those who lost sight of the goal at hand – getting good grades and doing something meaningful with my life. Frankly, I could survive with no friends at all.
“Hi Connor!”
“What’s your name again?”
“I’m Chelsea…”
I had a crush on Connor back in middle school, so I was offended he didn’t remember me. I don’t talk to him much nowadays. Sometimes I give a wave, but more often I just lower my head and move on. He’s always with a bunch of his friends. I’m glad he’s found a group to belong to. Maybe one day I can find one too.
I see so many people here from my high school, Rachel Carson Middle School, and even from Oak Hill Elementary School. Even among the crowds of students numbering over 20,000 I can always recognize a few faces. And that was comforting.
I wait outside my friend Andrew’s dorm room to go to a meeting…not looking forward to it. He waves me in. “I’m doing laundry, you can wait in here.” His roommate isn’t there, and frankly, his room is pretty sparse. Indeed, he is folding laundry on his bed. I do notice the high-end gaming laptop with a glowing rainbow keyboard on his desk, the only splurge it seemed. I stand there awkwardly as he folds a pair of pants. He seems to sense the ambience, striking up a conversation. “Hey. Do you know you Rice Purity Score?”
“What’s that?”
He guides me to his fancy laptop, pulling up a page. “Just do this survey and tell me what you get!”
I look at the description at the top of the website.
The Purity Test has historically served as a segway from O-week to true college life at Rice.
It’s a voluntary opportunity for O-week groups to bond, and for students to track the maturation
of their experiences throughout college.
Caution: This is not a bucket list. Completion of all items on this test will likely result in death.
This is going to be interesting.
I get a solid 43 out of 100. Andrew gapes. “Wow! That’s the lowest score I’ve seen!”
I don’t know how that makes me feel. That’s like an F grade.
Rice Purity Scores pop up a few more times in conversation, with my TSA family or with my group of friends in my dorm. Why are college students so obsessed with that number? I think we are all a little obsessed with the taboo, of sex and alcohol and drugs. College is freedom after all. We have all heard stories of the strictest students going crazy in college away from the restrictions of their parents and community.
I’m kind of lonely. I spend most of time in my dorm room studying or out at one my extracurriculars. I don’t have time to go out with my friends or hang out with the different Asian organizations at their Mezzeh fundraiser or community dinners or whatever. I don’t want to talk to people, it’s just too much work. After every First Year Council Meeting or Association Council meeting, I’m the first out the door. I find it harder and harder to contribute in class and at those meetings. I don’t have any creative ideas. What if they think what I say is stupid? I don’t have anything to contribute to the conversation. Whenever I go to events with the Asian organization, I never know anyone there. It’s too late for me to make myself known.
Mira is at the dorm too typically. We are such antisocial introverts…Hey, at least we have the highest grades in our classes? Seriously, we are number one and two in physics lab. As first years. Yea, maybe we are getting a little arrogant.
I changed my Facebook profile picture to a picture my family head from TSA took for me. It was the only picture they took of me at the photo shoot. I left after ten minutes. I get 148 likes. It’s the most I have ever gotten. I don’t think I’m that popular really. More people are just my Facebook friends now.
Party life is a big part of UVA culture, whether the administration and students accept it or not. I attended a few with my friends, but I abstained from drinking. It was really boring. It was somewhat amusing seeing people around me get drunk, but really? Dancing, flirting, and partying isn’t fun when you’re the only sober one. I had drunk alcohol in China before, but only with my parents and not nearly enough for it to affect me. I grow curious.
I break up with my long-distance boyfriend right before the notorious Halloweekend (weekend before Halloween). We had been rocky for a while. Apparently I don’t call or chat enough. And he didn’t approve of my desires to go partying and drinking. I never knew how much I relied on him until it was over. My social life the next few weeks go to hell. I crush on a guy I had known for only a month. I get rejected. I cry. I start a fight with Kirtana, complaining that she didn’t truly think of me as a friend. That relationship still hasn’t recovered. She doesn’t pick me up for Cell Biology anymore. A guy confesses his love for me. I just wanted to stay close friends. Goodbye to that relationship as well.
I blacked out the first time I went drinking. That’s fabulous. I start going out every Friday night, sometimes even Saturday nights. Looking back at it, I don’t know why I did that. Peer pressure was part of it. I just wanted to feel included, like I was wanted. I forced myself to go to more social events, to be peppy and happy. It works for a while. Until I realize I don’t really want to be like that all the time.
I’ve become a lot more social as a result though. There isn’t any harm going out to Mellow Mushroom trivia night with my Academic and Wellness Committee from First Year Council, and it’s fun to talk to the upperclassmen from TSA and CSA. I played IM soccer with TSA and CSA, and I became good friends with the people on the team. It helps that I’m decent at soccer, and that I’m a female, since co-ed teams always struggle to find enough girls to play. Winning with the team was one of the greatest joys this year. They even want me to run for Sports Chair next year! I go to weekly lab meetings and hang out at the laboratory, shadowing Kristen and Zoe and Corey and everyone else to learn new laboratory techniques and to, surprisingly, make friends. We even have a holiday party coming up. I just need to put myself out there, and hey, people aren’t so bad. I like people. They can be really fun!
I find I really don’t need to study that much, and after taking that out, I’m left with a lot more free time. I should probably spend that time at the laboratory, but I’ve become a little bit addicted to hanging out with people. I decided that I shouldn’t force myself to socialize. It’s ok to take some time to myself. Especially when I have a lot of homework and tests coming up. But it’s sometimes hard to make the right decision. In the end, I just have to choose my battles, and maintain a healthy balance between social life and academic and extracurriculars. We will see how that goes. It’s always a work in progress.
What have I found from talking to all these people? Everyone is a little depressed in some way. Whether they feel lonely, excluded, failing school, whatever, people all have their own issues. My friend Ben broke up with his long distance girlfriend, and he has been suffering from depression, despite the nonchalant, bad boy facade. Sori, the President of one of my CIOs, is holed up in her room, dying from Biochemistry, Physics, and Cell Biology. Her premed dreams were shaky, destabilized by bad grades in a few classes. Troy is a student from Virginia Commonwealth University, but he makes the long drive down every weekend because he feels lonely, believing that his true friends are at UVA. I still talk to my ex-boyfriend, Jason, and he too stresses about school, his family, his future, and his friendships. Mira, Monica, Lisa…the list goes on.
Everyone is like me. We are not alone. I’m trying to be more empathetic because I know that other people have their own issues, every bit as problematic as mine. I want to be able to help, to be able to understand. First, I have to be able to learn how to comprehend and talk to people. I could always memorize material for a test, but people? That’s a whole new area. I am doing my best, and I think I’m well on my way to becoming a better person. Or at least, I sure hope so.
Growth and Final Thoughts
Cancer. Why is it such a hard disease to tackle? The answer lies in its adaptability. In the carefully spun networks of protein kinases and molecules, when even one component goes out of balance, everything can be sent crashing apart. HER2, for example, is a receptor on our cells that control cell proliferation. When it activates, it starts a kinase cascade, proteins triggering each other like dominos falling, a reaction that grows bigger and bigger only to result in the cell dividing. What happens if a mutation causes it to always be turned on? To keep pushing the dominoes over and over? That, of course results in cancer, an uncontrollable growth of cells. Even if you treat one protein in the pathway, there is always another mutation on another protein to take its place. You have to admire the tenacity of cancer cells to stay alive regardless of what is thrown at them.
This was the last unit in my Cell Biology class. Cancer triggers a negative reaction in most people, the deadly, inevitable disease it is. But if you look closer, you have to admire the intricacies that goes into this phenomenon. Cancer cells just want to stay alive, to avoid apoptosis, or cell death. They do anything they can to thrive, to avoid the barriers that block their growth. When one way is gone, they simply find another. It is a never-ending struggle.
Similarly, my journey isn’t over. It’s only been a semester, and I still have a lot of issues to go through and perspectives to solidify.
I have tackled my first set of classes. I have joined a host of new activities I would have never dared to try and keep up with before. I have made friends with people I would never have talked to. I have gotten closer and come to know the stories of the people around me, in all their amazing diversities, each with their unique paths, yet with the same threads of core emotions weaving through them all. And through all this, I have gotten to know and have learned to love the most important person. Myself.
My first semester may be over, but I can’t give up. I will change as university continues, no doubt. There are so many things I want to do. I want to take Genetics, to take Tissue Engineering, to take Developmental Biology lab, to take all these cool courses. I want to publish a paper in my research lab. I want to take a leadership roles in my committees, to come up with creative events. I want to be Sports Chair of TSA. I want to learn to knit a blanket with my arms. I want to try playing League of Legends. I want to become closer to those around me, to have a close knit of friends that I could trust my life with. I want to find my passions.
But regardless of whether I succeed, in the end, I hope to come out better than before. Just as how a cell grows and sorts out its life cycle, I will do the same, so one day, I can thrive, as hardy as a cancer cell, immortalized, able to be remembered forever. In the end, that is my dream. To be able to live a fulfilling life. And also, I think…to be happy.
Author’s End Note:
Through writing this work, I used a lot of the strategies and mindsets that I learned in my English class, from the readings, writings, and discussions. Previously, writing was like a wall in my path, done mainly to satisfy the teacher assigning the project. I had found joy in writing when I was younger, but not so much after middle school. From this class, I was inspired to write again for myself. Every writing can be seen to benefit me in the end, to help me consolidate what I have learned and to express my own unique thoughts and opinions. Writer’s block, another problem I had struggled with, was also tackled. Learning about the editing process, how it never ends, how you can go back any time, rearrange, and rewrite, I’m not scared to just free write onto the page and edit and look over it later. I feel like I have become a more confident and fluid writer after this class.
I can see my work being in a student publication or a newspaper/magazine, whether in print or online. I took inspiration from the work of others, such as Matt’s and Jasmin’s, and I appreciated the comments and feedback given by my peers and instructor. By learning how to give feedback, I found that critiquing others helped me find my own paths in my writing, and the suggestions given by my classmates shaped my writing. The idea to combine biology and personal narrative was came into being because of the positive support of those around me, and the overall style and structure was based on the discussions we had. This work came from free flowing ideas, just me writing down what I thought was significant in my transition and academic concepts that have stuck with me. Questions I have include whether my story was easy to follow and what else could have been valuable to include. I know I have a lot of grammatical mistakes and tense switches in this paper, which could be refined. I am now more aware of writing, its importance, and I aim to improve my writing through more classes and practice. I have even started keeping a diary after finding out how therapeutic writing can be. I have not finished this work, and I could definitely expand on it. I hope to continue writing this work in the future as time goes on, and if I do continue keeping an updated diary, I can definitely use sections from that to augment this piece. In the end, this can be a work compiling my experiences from all my whole first year or even my whole college undergraduate experience.