As I write this article at 7:30 a.m. between putting my laundry in the wash and transferring it to the dryer, I think about how overscheduled I am and how I could not be happier about it.
I am a third-year senior taking 16 credit hours, including my senior thesis, heading a cultural organization, competing in two varsity sports, and working for Residential Life & Explorations and Odyssey at Rollins.
Free time for me has become a precious commodity, and yet I still am looking to do more. I have, as we like to say here at Rollins, “found my anchor.”
A liberal arts education reaches its potential when you take it upon yourself to explore the opportunities that are practically shoved in your face. Flyers cover every bare space in common areas; clubs table at the campus center during common hour to promote upcoming meetings; at least once a week, you can expect to see sidewalk chalk advertising a public event. These are good things.
I like to think the slogan “Find Your Anchor” refers not to joining a single club or sports team and making that your whole identity, but rather to celebrating inclusion and the intersection of multiple identities.
Though you may find your anchor through your club or sports team, the groups themselves are not your anchor. I like to think an anchor is something intangible, that drive or passion that unites all of one’s college interests and experiences to a single ideal or life goal.
Finding that anchor, that passion, is the most important achievement you can boast while attending Rollins. Still, that does not mean you zoom from club to club, rushing through every opportunity without seeing whether it will fuel your passion.
I needed two years to find my passion—the thing that anchored me, made me feel at home, and connected all my many obligations at Rollins. For me, that passion was my love of teaching.
After I discovered what drove me, my disgustingly overbooked schedule gained new meaning.
I never thought of myself as one to join clubs, but my desire to teach has lead me to take responsibility in groups where I simultaneously can pursue my passion and benefit other people.
I could be introducing new rowers to the ergometers at the boathouse, organizing walks down Park Avenue to St. Margaret Mary’s, or sharing my thesis with and gaining insights from colleagues in the library. The pastime is irrelevant; what matters is the inspiration.
Whatever I do, I try to link it back to my anchor, and I can do that because I finally found it. Have you found yours?