Dear Incoming Kilachand Freshmen: No One Cares

By Luciano Foranoce | Photo by Tara Mullaney

I know. I know you want to say it. I know you think it sounds distinguished. 

“Erm, I’m in the honors college!” Grow up.

Any sense of dignity that phrase may have carried is immediately replaced by weasily entitlement. No one cares that you’re in the honors college. 

Wow, you get to take extra credits that suck and get to pick housing first! That’s definitely relevant and will make you tons of friends! Get real.

Congratulations for checking a fucking box on the application. While you’re bragging about it to someone across the table, they’re looking for the nearest object to gouge their eyeballs out with. There’s a reason no one introduces themselves as a “junior or senior in the honors college,” because they’ve learned. They know that statement is as red of a flag as complaining that Questrom is hard. As calling it X instead of Twitter. As their favorite rapper being Eminem.

Look at the humble CGS freshmen – those bitches are quiet, and they get to go to London! So shut up. That fuckass building was under renovation for 60 billion years and is still haunted. And it’s far.

But what do I know? I’m just bitter that I couldn’t get in, right? Sure. Fucking whatever. Have fun taking those honors seminars. I know they’re sooo interesting. I hope it hurts. When you’re forced not to take a class that you need to graduate because the honors seminar meets at the same time. When your color-coded, diligently planned 4-year schedule comes crumbling down. When you’re forced to face the fact that you should’ve been humble. And I hope you know that I’ll be relishing in that.

So, to this next generation of Kilachand freshmen, I hope you learned a thing or two. I hope you make better choices. And I hope you know that, truthfully, no one gives a rat’s ass.