First years catch transfer fever

by Sarah Kobetis

Wednesday February 22, 2006

February is truly a glorious month. The combination of Valentine’s Day, the unpredictable and often awful weather and the mid-semester social monotony could easily be enough to send even the most stable Sarah Lawrence student to the roof of the New Dorms. For first years, though, transferring seems like a more viable, and less messy, solution.

The transfer-hype notoriously hits its peak in February, when it looks as though the entire first year class is breaking the news to their dons and requesting their transcripts. For all the talk, though, chances are that the same people who’ve slyly dropped, "Yeah, I’m thinking about transferring," into every conversation they’ve had since winter break will be back in the fall for their sophomore year. Sure, some people make it out, but a whopping 91 percent never follow through on the threat, according to the Princeton Review.

If the Class of 2009 is comprised of approximately 380 students, then that means that a mere 34 won’t return for their sophomore year. Surprised? Don’t be. I, too, was one of those people claiming during the February of my first year that there was no way I would ever return to Sarah Lawrence.

The myth of the first year mass exodus that rears its head each winter is not unique to this year’s class—I remember discussing my then solid plans to leave this school and never come back with a girl in one of my classes last year when a senior who had been listening to our conversation from across the table ominously foretold my future: everyone says they’re transferring after their first year, but nobody does.

Preposterous, I thought! I would be the exception. I mean, I’d already sent in my housing forms to my soon-to-be new home for higher education. Nothing could change my mind. At least nothing could change my mind until February was over.

Spring came. People emerged from the dorm rooms they hadn’t really left for two months. The sun was out and people were smiling. That is, they would have been smiling if people smiled more in general. But we’ll save that for another day.

The point here is that it’s not as bad as you think. Perpetual cold, perpetual work and perpetual boredom overtake you in the winter months and Sarah Lawrence seems akin to the seventh ring of hell, complete with uncontrollable radiators, but trust me when I say that it’s nothing but a classic case of the "grass is always greener" phenomenon.

You’ve most likely been so wrapped up in your own personal pity party for the past few months that you didn’t notice that everybody’s first year of college kind of sucks—no matter the location. Add on to the average turmoil of your first year the, put kindly, "uniqueness" of Sarah Lawrence, and you’ve got yourself a recipe for mental breakdown.

So, unhappy first year, my advice to you as a once aspiring SLC expatriate is to stick it out until the spring. Go ahead and fill out those applications; it’s cathartic, I know, but don’t make any decisions until the weather warms up and work slows down. Not to get too preachy , but you may seriously regret it. Simply waiting for things to get better may seem like too simple of a solution, but ask almost any upperclassmen—they’ve seen it happen. I hate to do to you what that guy in my class last year did to me, but somebody has to.

You’ll see why next fall.