Alas, I have made the inevitable first trek of the year down to first-floor Clemons. Countless students have come here before me, giving up hours of their lives reading, writing, calculating and, of course, procrastinating.
The smorgasbord of scribbled notes on the walls of any given cubicle give lonely, tired souls a sense of solidarity — and, of course, a source of entertainment when they just can’t focus any longer. I have come to realize these notes represent the diversity of our university and — even more broadly — that each cubicle holds important social insight inside of it.
First, there are the complainers: those who cope with the stress of impending deadlines by cursing their lives and writing hateful graffiti about chem lab and their terrible professors. Let’s face it — we all have traversed that train of thought at one point, even if we didn’t write it down. Sometimes, it is easier to point fingers than to accept that studying ahead of time maybe could have prevented tonight’s all-nighter.
Then there are the motivators: those who have surpassed anger, or perhaps are just in an especially good mood and want to cheer the rest of us up. They write notes which say, “Remember, you rock” or “You can make it!” and always provide a small gleam of hope.
Next, there are the romantics: the poor souls who are just so in love they can’t restrain their desire to write their anniversary date on the cubicle and draw a heart around it. I like to imagine these people sitting there, trying to write a paper but continuously drifting away as he or she stares into the sky, dreaming about their loved ones. This was corroborated by a note which read, “I would rather be with her right now.” I suppose when you are lovesick, the walls of the Clem cubicles are there to comfort you.
Of course, you can’t forget the jokesters, existing only to provide comic relief to everyone around them. All of the other notes are twisted to fit the jokester’s own style. Next to an anniversary scribble, they writes “Hey, that’s today. Congratulations! Unless you broke up or something.” Or next to “Jesus saves,” they add: “15 percent on his car insurance by switching to Geico.”
That brings us to the social butterflies — those who hope to initiate conversation with whomever uses the cubicle next. They write questions like, “Does anybody else hate studying psych?” or start lists of the top 10 guitarists. I always wonder if these people return to the same cubicle every visit, hoping to keep updated on new additions, or if their comments represent a one-time burst of inspiration left behind.
Then, there are the philosophers and ethicists: the ambitious ones who attempt to solve important social issues amid their studies. These people are responsible for the notes discussing global warming and the question, “Is capital punishment justified?” (under which a lively debate consisting of one inscribed “yes’ and one equally passionate “no”). Perhaps some day down the road the collective brainpower projected onto these walls will lead to a breakthrough.
After reading all their notes, I imagine all these people lined up together — the complainer discussing how someone’s squeaky pen is interfering with his brainpower, the motivator acting a little too cheery, the jokester hoping some laughs will make him feel better about the paper he doesn’t feel too confident about, the social butterfly trying to talk to all of the above while they are focusing, the romantic daydreaming (oblivious to what is going on) and the philosopher attempting to spark a serious debate started in spite of it all.
This rendez-vous isn’t so far-fetched. I believe everyone has encountered people in college who can fit each bill. But that is what’s great. We are all thrown into this experience together, each with our own unique ways of coping.
Whichever type of person you are, rest assured you are not alone — and you have the Clem cubicles to prove it.
Kelly’s column runs biweekly Tuesdays. She can be reached at k.seegers@cavalierdaily.com.