The best laid plans…

This past fall, I approached my major advisor with two incompatible requests. I wanted to write a history honors thesis, I explained, but also wanted to help my family financially by finishing my classes as many quarters early as possible, specifically by the end of fall term. My advisor, as always incredibly helpful and understanding, came up with an elegant solution: the Dartmouth Foreign Study Program in London. There I could take an independent study project as one class, working with primary documents and crafting a long research paper. While it wouldn't exactly be a thesis, it was about as close as I could get in one term. Although I had already studied in London during my sophomore year, I jumped on this compromise as the best and only solution. Thereafter, I applied, was accepted, and seemed ready to head back to the Brits this coming fall. It seemed perfect-another fun abroad term, followed by two quarters of my campus job, PE classes and extracurriculars without paying tuition. My friends envied the easygoing senior year I had planned out.

This term, however, little episodes began to frustrate me. I received a letter from the history department informing me of my eligibility to write a thesis, with a handwritten note saying "but of course you'll be in London." I received emails for different leadership opportunities for seniors that I could begin to apply for-provided, of course, that I be on campus all next year. During officers' council meetings for my sorority, we discussed recruitment and programs for the fall which I would not see fulfilled. My friends began thinking up fun plans and trips for senior fall. All I could do was ask for them to remember to send me pictures.

As I write out the "minor" frustrations that constantly nagged just below the surface of my daily thoughts and interactions, you may see the end of the story pretty clearly. But for a long time, I didn't even entertain the possibility of what it might be like to not go to London, or give a passing thought as to how much effort might be required to change my plans, or at what cost. I was going to London, and that was that. I had learned that one doesn't give up on something just because it begins to look difficult.

I now realize, however, that it takes more courage to change one's plans rather than force them onward, and more self-awareness to step back, reevaluate and realize an original plan is not working. As an indecisive person, I have difficulty just choosing what to wear in the morning or what to order at dinner, let alone choosing a new path for the coming year. Luckily, whereas deep introspection may not help me choose between the blue skirt or the red one, thinking carefully about what I value did help me recognize what I want to take away from next year. I eventually recognized that while the London program would be amazing, it was not the right plan for my senior year. I want to spend more time on the history topics I love, in the campus clubs and causes I am passionate about, and with the friends whom I treasure and will miss at the end of my Dartmouth career. My plans have changed, but the possibilities are just beginning.