It seems that whenever I log on to Facebook, my home page is littered with status updates reading “OMG. First day of college in [insert countdown number] days!” I have no issue with these posts or their authors; after all, only a year ago, I, too, was a nervous newbie. However, reading these statuses gets me thinking about the year ahead.
This year, my second at Wharton, will be crucial. I’ll be taking six classes in the fall: introductory courses in finance, management and statistics; a course in Bengali (my parents’ native tongue, which I have yet to fully grasp); and private music lessons (which only account for a half-credit, but I’m looking forward to them just as much as my other classes).
As you can tell, I’ll be diving into my core Wharton curriculum. Not only will I learn the fundamentals of business, thus laying a foundation for the rest of my educational career, but I’ll also take my first step in selecting my concentration(s). Unfortunately, I wasn’t one of those Whartonites who descended on Locust Walk with his heart set on [insert business-related profession]. I envy those precocious few who read Bloomberg before Judy Blume.
But Wharton is an amazing place that promises myriad opportunities. Last I checked, about 20 concentration options are available to undergrads.
I’m nervous about not knowing what lies ahead, but I know I’ll figure it out. Hopefully by next May, I’ll report to you that I have declared a concentration and maybe—just maybe—have an idea of what I want to do post-Wharton.
The Penn Glee Club
A new academic year doesn’t just mean a return to classes, but also a return to college life—and for me, a significant part of life in West Philadelphia revolves around the Penn Glee Club. An all-male, all-awesome choral group, we perform many genres of music, from Eric Whitacre’s “Lux Aurumque” to Flo Rida’s “Club Can’t Handle Me.” We’re a tight-knit “brotherhood of man.” Apart from practicing and performing together, we spend a lot of time together and are each other’s closest friends.
This year is our sesquicentennial (read “150-year anniversary”). It’s humbling to know that generations of students came before you; it’s a constant reminder that, no matter how talented you are, you’re just a small part of a much bigger picture. Still, it’s hard to contain your excitement when you realize that you’re going to be a part of history.
Although my precious days of gallivanting in the summer sun are winding down, I have a lot to look forward to this year. But between the academics and harmonics, I’m also going to have a lot on my plate. On that note, I should stop writing and start packing my stuff.
