Musings From An I-N-T-J On The Undergrad Experience
From a former U of C undergrad
Evan Trent
Issue date: 10/14/04 Section: Perspectives
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If there's one thing about the GSB that has me flabbergasted, it's the ubiquity of good natured people and downright fun. Given that this is the University of Chicago and I attended four years of undergrad here, I simply wasn't expecting it. I wrongly assumed it would be like the College, but with firmer handshakes and more expensive shoes.
I own a t-shirt which boasts "The University of Chicago - Where Fun Comes to Die". I bought it during my freshman year in the College and I wore it with pride all four years. From the moment I first set foot on campus I knew that the U of C was the right place for me. Everybody I met was, well, a gigantic geek. And I am sure my parents would gladly confirm that I was diagnosed a geek at birth. There is little question that I would have been typed an "I" on the Myers Briggs test before I came to Chicago, but there is no doubt in my mind that Chicago made me into, for lack of a better word, an uber-introvert.
I had never worked so hard in my life. Saturdays were frequently spent in the library - in good company, I might add. Everybody was bright and hard working, and there was a scarcity of J. Crew models that graced the campuses of so many other schools I visited prior to enrolling. When I applied to other schools, I received a catalog with photos of students smiling, throwing frisbees, and lying on the quads laughing. What did the University of Chicago College send me? A book, thick as a brick, with a maroon cover titled "Courses & Programs of Study." Silly as it may sound, that pretty much sold me on Chicago right then and there.
No matter if one was an aspiring chemist or poet, we all read Marx (Karl, not Groucho), Durkheim, Freud, Aristotle, and everybody's favorite: Adam Smith. One of the core classes "Self, Culture, and Society" was lovingly and appropriately referred to as "Self Torture and Anxiety." Chicago was an eye opening journey that broadened my horizons and regularly strained my brain.
I look back at my college years fondly, but truth be told Chicago undergrad is a lonely experience. It's intense, solitary and decidedly lean on the social component. Some might even consider that a rather flattering characterization. The admissions office would probably crucify me upside down if they knew I was writing this, for they have gone to great lengths to dispel the rumor that Chicago is not "fun" - the problem they keep running into is that it's not so much a rumor as a reality. The College is a cold and uninviting place, and denial ain't just a river in Egypt.
I own a t-shirt which boasts "The University of Chicago - Where Fun Comes to Die". I bought it during my freshman year in the College and I wore it with pride all four years. From the moment I first set foot on campus I knew that the U of C was the right place for me. Everybody I met was, well, a gigantic geek. And I am sure my parents would gladly confirm that I was diagnosed a geek at birth. There is little question that I would have been typed an "I" on the Myers Briggs test before I came to Chicago, but there is no doubt in my mind that Chicago made me into, for lack of a better word, an uber-introvert.
I had never worked so hard in my life. Saturdays were frequently spent in the library - in good company, I might add. Everybody was bright and hard working, and there was a scarcity of J. Crew models that graced the campuses of so many other schools I visited prior to enrolling. When I applied to other schools, I received a catalog with photos of students smiling, throwing frisbees, and lying on the quads laughing. What did the University of Chicago College send me? A book, thick as a brick, with a maroon cover titled "Courses & Programs of Study." Silly as it may sound, that pretty much sold me on Chicago right then and there.
No matter if one was an aspiring chemist or poet, we all read Marx (Karl, not Groucho), Durkheim, Freud, Aristotle, and everybody's favorite: Adam Smith. One of the core classes "Self, Culture, and Society" was lovingly and appropriately referred to as "Self Torture and Anxiety." Chicago was an eye opening journey that broadened my horizons and regularly strained my brain.
I look back at my college years fondly, but truth be told Chicago undergrad is a lonely experience. It's intense, solitary and decidedly lean on the social component. Some might even consider that a rather flattering characterization. The admissions office would probably crucify me upside down if they knew I was writing this, for they have gone to great lengths to dispel the rumor that Chicago is not "fun" - the problem they keep running into is that it's not so much a rumor as a reality. The College is a cold and uninviting place, and denial ain't just a river in Egypt.