WEIRENS | A Smattering of Lessons Learned From Four Years at Cornell

As my days around the Cornell Sun dwindle, I’ve become reflective. Here are some lessons I’ve learned over the years. 

The only free gift from Cornell is the gift of disease resistance

Perhaps the most precious gift of them all. In fact, I usually get to regift it to my entire family for the holidays. Forget free laundry or gyms, my first two years living in the dorms here have given me the immune system of a smug and pockmarked medieval peasant who survived to adulthood.

Mastery of awkward dancing 

Bob the head. Peddle the arms. Look for the corner. Or the exit. Give up and lean against the wall whilst making the world's loudest small talk. 

There are not enough Midwesterners here and you betcha I’m not happy about it

“Uffff-da,” I call into the abyss. I only hear my own echo in return. A disappointing epiphany for Midwestern Cornellians is that a significant chunk of students here are from the same handful of coastal feeder schools who don’t appreciate our Opes, fierce greed for cheese and ignorance of Westchester. 

There’s a lot to enjoy on-campus

Admire the groundhogs that waddle about. Walk a different way to class and peer into the gorge from a different angle. Sun yourself on the Johnson Museum balcony. “Bet Columbia doesn’t have this,” has been the running line in my head all four years. I’d like to see them try to run a dairy operation in Central Park. Cows on the subway? An amoosing thought. 

Big Red is a poor mascot name

Bring back the baby bear on the chain. Or even an adult one full of soothing drugs. We can’t have a color representing us anymore. 

Importance of perspective

Marrying oil baron and shipping mogul Ebenezer Snootypants VIII has not worked out, so last fall I was consumed with worry about finding a post-grad job. 

A Cornell professor, also a class of 1968 alumnus, struck me with a bit of perspective. Back in her senior year of college, if you didn’t have a post-grad plan lined up, you wouldn’t have your parents’ basement to fear. In fact, you’d be eligible for a free backpacking trip around South Asia, MREs included, something many post-grads pay thousands to do now. It could always be worse. 

You never know what you’re going to get with professors

Cornell professors have given me no shortage of stories. There’s the professor whose teaching assistant pulled out an entire stick of butter from his clogged drain. There’s also the one who snatched up a snake from the ground and proceeded to parade it around like a prized puppy. 

Whether they be ranting about online poker, begging us to work out our abs (“the most important muscle of the body”), tearing a broken clock out of the wall or giving us cookies the size of our heads, I will miss our chaotic professors. 

Explore 

This is a really unique, beautiful part of the world that we live in. I’ve been to the surrounding state parks time and time again, and never fail to be impressed. If you don’t have a car or a buddy with a car, it’s still possible to explore: You can be like my friend who ran 34 miles in an attempt to make it to Seneca Falls on foot. Sadly, he didn’t make it and was rescued by a van of hippies who returned him to Cornell. 

Cornellians are the best

There are going to be a lot of people to miss upon graduation. Arriving at Cornell four years ago, I was terrified of not knowing a single person. How was it all going to work out? 

It didn’t take me long to realize it was going to be awesome here — not just because the student community is so talented, smart and hardworking. The students here are relentlessly supportive of each other, and I have been so lucky to have experienced that every day. 

Getting to see my peers grow over the years, and grow with them, has been such a privilege. As has writing about, and for, them.

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