Column:

The truthiness about college

By Hannah Hayes

Published April 8, 2008

It’s springtime here at MU, and as the grass grows greener and the self-baked girls grow oranger, there is yet another familiar sight: campus tours.

Like herds of frightened gazelles, they gather round Brady Commons and the Columns, to hear of the wondrous future MU has in store delivered by its perkiest, backwards-walking students.

They stroll through Lowry Mall and gaze at the blooming trees perfectly framing Jesse Hall and stare in awe at the overwhelming selection of cereal in the dining halls. But if I remember my first tour of MU correctly, this place didn’t turn out to be the magical theme park of independence they made it out to be.

It’s not that MU isn’t a pretty swell place to spend four years of your life, but I think it’s egregious to fill these vulnerable, trembling sponges with visions of grandeur. So to any of you high-schoolers who happened to pick up a copy of The Maneater on the way through our fair campus, consider this your uncensored, poppycock and baloney-free guide.

Let’s start with Jesse Hall and the surrounding area. This area is a tour staple because it’s a common assumption that the older the building, the smarter and more hardworking the youngsters who fill it are. But chances are, unless you’re an engineer or a hopeful journalist, you will rarely find yourself here. Those who do will come to hate it because it’s out of the way no matter where you are.

You see those trees over there in glorious bloomage? We waited a long, miserable, damp winter to see those, so don’t take them for granted.

So where will I spend the most time you ask? That’s easy, but sad. One frequented spot is Conservation Auditorium. It’s a huge over air-conditioned, blasé room with blasting fluorescent lights that force your eyes open to retain the endless projected power points. You’ll probably end up having staring contests with the various taxidermy-ed animals that sit outside the auditorium. Watch out for that bobcat, though. He’s a cheater.

You might also find yourself in Arts and Science or Strickland Hall, which will always be the General Classroom Building and always smell like a zoo on a hot day. But watch out here kids, because the guy standing next to you waiting for class to start isn’t your fellow classmate. So don’t make any smartass remarks like “Gee, I hope this professor’s an easy grader.” Because surprise, he is your professor! Ah yes, the graduate student. Perhaps you have dreams of white haired, sweater vested men with vast amounts of experience and knowledge coming standard in every classroom, but usually your professor will be a few years older than you and wear the same clothes, but hey, at least he knows what YouTube is.

So ... uhh where am I supposed to go when I’m not in class you ask? The dorms and the dining halls, my friend. It may seem cool that your mom isn’t around to yell at you about that laundry, but after a few weeks, when it starts to surround and turn on you like odiferous muggers in a back ally, you might be singin’ a different tune, along the lines of “Mama I’m coming home.” Sadly this realm of choice and independence will taint the visual feast that is the dining halls as well.

Sure, it looks like you have near three thousand choices. But eventually everything will all taste like the corn starch, water and grade “C” beef that it is. And the fact that Joe, that guy who lives down the hall, hands it to you doesn’t make it any better because you saw what he did in the bathroom this morning.

It sounds scary, and sometimes it is, but don’t fret. The best parts of college, like friends, free t-shirts, free pizza and, yeah, free stuff, aren’t things you can see on a tour.