A line. Every first-year architecture student probably understands the line assignment. It is a simple task; you draw one-hundred, random four-inch straight lines of a similar thickness, then draw another set of one hundred random four-inch straight lines various degrees of thickness, and then a final set of one hundred lines of a random, non-straight fashion. Now, a line goes from one point to another: a set place. A line can mean a variety of things. Like in math, a line can be stagnant, it can move up or it can digress, just like life. So far my freshman college life has been a pretty positive linear line. I moved in and was in similar to many of my other peers: stress over getting organized, fretting over making friends, and ready to start my new life away from home. Yet, most of my worries dissolved within the first day or two. The college life is not too shabby. Days followed of making new friends and having a blast, really drinking life to the lees, as Alfred Lord Tennyson would say. College life is for me.
However, classes began and my tenure of enjoying myself came to an abrupt end. I arrived at calculus. I arrived approximately 15-20 minutes early and all the seats in the front of the room were filled. Now, I am not used to sitting in the back of the room; the back is reserved for people who are more apathetic about learning, right? But I guess, in a school filled with some of America’s future inventors and leaders, everyone must be on their A-game and fight for those front row tickets, just like middle schools girls at a One Direction concert. I was surrounded with people who also did not want to be in the back, but I later grew content with sitting toward the back of the room because the people in the back also longed to sit in the front of the room; however, my bliss was soon dissolved. Roughly 15 minutes into the class, while the professor was going over the syllabus, two students suddenly realized they were in the wrong class. Luckily, I was not one of them and did not have to do the walk of shame out of the room. Unfortunately, for those two poor souls, their lines must have started wavering downward, peaking at the end of their summer and hastily dropping at 8:50 a.m.. Maybe college will be harder than I thought.
My escalating line begins to waver. Just as the line "y=x" changes when anything is added to it. Next up was my first architecture class of the day. Roughly 100 students are in this class and are all competing for the same thing: a job. In five years, we will graduate and hunt for employment. 100 other people with the same goal as me is a frightening thought. Later that afternoon, I went to my final class of the day: an architecture studio. In that class, we were assigned the line project. My first task as an architecture student was to make random lines (surprisingly, random can truly never exist) and this is where my line ends, or better yet, continues. Like in math, a line typically ends in an arrow, which signifies more to come, and I have much more to accomplish in my career as a striving architect and student. Yet, my line of life is not linear. It has bumps and lumps, ups and downs, highs, and lows. Regardless of the problems I will encounter and the late nights I will inevitably spend in Crown Hall, I have enjoyed my stay at Illinois Tech and am ready for my line to continue growing.