As a freshman in high school, I remember walking into the library for the activity fair. All the clubs had tables set up with the intention of recruiting the wide-eyed new kids to their respective clubs. Each group preached its own merits and while they all sounded really interesting to me (at the time at least), there was one group whose message stuck particularly well in my mind: forensics. Join forensics -- it looks good for college.
Dealing with speech and debate stuff, forensics was right up my alley anyway. I thought, "I could do something that looks good for college AND enjoy it? Double bonus." Apparently it worked because, hey, here I am at Penn now. Years after my experiences of padding my college app in high school, I find those same motives in our hallowed halls.
There's a dual mindset of doing things purely for one's own enjoyment value but also for the reason that they are some means to an end, rather than an end in and of themselves. At times, the line between the two can be disturbingly blurred. Join a club in high school because it looks good on a college app. Join a club in college because it helps build your resum‚. Do x because it leads to y. Where does it end?
It's a vicious cycle indeed. But when seeking some moral guidance as to how we get off this forever-winding road, I stumbled across the omniscient words of one Homer Simpson who once quipped, "The answers to life's problems aren't at the bottom of a bottle. They're on TV!" The more I thought about it, the more I realized that we can learn a lot from two characters from Springfield who, surprisingly enough, most college students relate to pretty well: Mr. Burns and Homer Simpson.
Now I know what you're thinking. All the Wharton kids are Mr. Burns, all the frat boys are Homer Simpson, and the rest of you are confused by the analogy I just drew. But let me explain. In the book, The Simpsons and Philosophy: The D'oh! Of Homer (a must-read for any Simpsons fan), we find an in-depth character analysis of both the greedy capitalist and the loud-mouthed father. Surprisingly, many of us have characteristics that are quite Burnsian. Not so "excellent" one would think. The idea is that Mr. Burns can never be happy because for him, "everything only takes on meaning in light of something else [and] it would seem as if nothing would have any meaning."
I'm not suggesting that this cynical view applies to all college students. In fact, it probably doesn't apply to very many at all. But I think the gist is valid and is one that college students take to heart. Many times, college students do things, not because we get intrinsic happiness from them, but rather because they can open up doors down the road. That's just the way some of us are built at Penn. We're constantly looking out for new opportunities and in pursuit of some future whatever. Whether we'd like to admit it or not, this drive to succeed is not unlike Mr. Burns'.
Don't worry, though. There is a saving grace. We're not all doomed to follow in Mr. Burns' decrepit shoes. I think that the greatest thing about Penn students is that we realize it's important to not only plan for the future, but also enjoy the present as well -- at least that's what I tell people on the tours I give. We all have that innate ability to tap into our "inner Homer." Homer Simpson may be a bad father. He may be a lazy, incompetent drunk. But he does have a quality that makes him admirable. Say what you want about Homer Simpson, but he lives a life of love and enjoyment. He does what he wants, when he wants -- regardless of what people think of him.
This I think, is an admirable trait, one that Penn students all possess to a certain degree and balance with their innate "Burns-ness." We understand that, at times, it's just as important to go out and party and come back the next morning with great stories as it is to ace our [insert killer class here] exam. There's a balance that needs to be struck and Penn students are quite adept at achieving it.
When you boil it down, I would suggest that your average Quaker is a new breed of Simpsons folk, one I'd like to call "Homer Burns." He's got a drive to succeed but also knows the value of just sitting back and enjoying life.
So here is one last bit of advice again drawing from the wisdom of Homer that, I believe, fits our character mold. "If you really want something in this life, you have to work for it. Now, quiet! They're about to announce the lottery numbers ..."
Craig Cohen is a Wharton sophomore from Woodbury, N.Y. He Hate Me appears on Fridays.
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