The sophomore slump reimagined

I’m a sophomore.  If you’re unfamiliar with term, it means that I know exactly what I want to do after I graduate, I’m doing well in all of my classes (yes, I’m overloading), and I’ve found my place on campus. Duke fits me like a glove.  

That’s the image I had as a freshman of who I would become as a sophomore.  After weathering the challenging throes of freshman year, I would finally have my makeover movie moment my second time around.  

I couldn’t have been more wrong.  

For one, I didn’t decide my major until a month before the major declaration deadline, meaning that I am now scrambling to fit all my required classes into the next two and half years. I have no idea what to do after I leave Duke, and although I have a great support system around me, there are times when I still feel lost and alone.  I’ve heard people call it the sophomore slump, but I’m not sure that’s what it is.  

It’s more of an unnavigable gray area—the transition of going from a freshman encouraged to “explore everything,” to a sophomore where you’re instructed to “decide everything.” Major declaration for Trinity students requires generating a What-If report, where you plan out all of your classes for the rest of your Duke career.  

Dr. Jenny Wood Crowley and Dr. Minna Ng, academic deans here at Duke, told me that feeling lost is okay.  They were invited to speak at a luncheon held by ASCEND Woman Scholars last week.  Both intelligent, witty, and wise beyond their years, they shared their personal experiences as college sophomores.  As Dr. Crowley spoke about her sophomore year, I found myself clinging onto her every word.  I saw myself in her.  She described a lot of the sentiments I have felt but never willfully acknowledged.  Coming into college, she also had no direction.  While it’s good to be open to all possibilities, she had to be careful about being swept under the influence of others.  Was she taking a certain path because she wanted to?  Or was she just subconsciously following the crowd? Her second year, she found the path she wanted to take after discovering her passion for history and religion.  She took college by storm and never looked back.  

Dr. Ng chimed in afterwards with advice that I will carry with me for the rest of my life, and that I wished I had understood earlier: “You must define success for yourself.”  I remember freshman me thought success was being pre-med and being involved in at least three extracurriculars.  Freshman me took classes like biology and chemistry that I talked myself into liking, and had squashed any feelings of uncertainty and disinterest so that they couldn’t grow large enough to be worthy of acknowledgement.  

But now I realize, that was not my definition of success, or at least that it should not have been.  It should not have been dreading my classes each day, enduring sleepless nights over material I saw no value in, squinting to find the silver lining that clearly was never there.  It should have been what I am doing now—taking classes in public policy that fascinate me and that I don’t mind studying hard for, being involved in clubs because I enjoy them, not because I feel obligated to, and even just finding the time to make it to that Friday kickboxing class.