The Regis Zoological University
College preparation was a particularly desolate experience made only worse by “valuable” college visits. Let’s be real: college tours are more like an outing at the zoo than at a place of academic inquiry, except colleges want you to join the exhibit.
I recall my least favorite tour. Amongst a herd of lumbering teenagers and our eagle-eyed parents, a tour guide shepherded me through the attractions as he squawked into a crackling headset, remarking on notable behaviors nearby.“To your right a pod of economics students grazes on Panda Express while studying—you too will be able to purchase books and food for a mostly-reasonable price right here on campus!”
We paraded past watering holes, hibernation dens, forests of books, not to mention the students themselves in their natural habitats. Settling into the vast environment of the campus, it almost felt as though the university were a predatory animal, and we prospective students were the prey. Like any prey that wants to live, my thoughts were pure and simple: run.
You can imagine how well that worked out. As much as I resisted the muzzle of college preparation—preening applications, hunting scholarships, galloping forward—expectation branded me all the same. Go. Attract a nice university. Step behind the glass. Wave at the passersby. It’ll be the best experience of your life! I think I’ll pass.
Eventually my mother made me shadow the Honors Writing Seminar at one of my potential schools; I resented that, but she insisted. For an hour I observed the discussion of W;t by Margaret Edson. I understood none of it—but I liked the way it sounded. I mean, it was a book, and I love talking about those things, but the process was familiar, too. Given the materials, I could do the same thing. In quick succession my idea of a university became tangible, achievable, and tantalizing, and over the following months I shed the role of hunted and became the hunter. I wanted to learn like that.
I then applied to and currently attend Regis University. Yup. I joined the zoo. Maybe it seems I betrayed my instincts and caged myself like the other animals—fair enough. Adapting to a cage isn't always a good thing. At the same time, the world holds many cages, courtesy of our governments, religions, economies, social contracts, and so on. For all I know, it may be impossible to escape them all. But even as I submit to college, I realize it’s the sort of cage that illuminates other cages out there and offers the tools to analyze them. And, of course, just because you put a lion in the zoo doesn’t mean she stops being a lion.
As it is, the irony of my distaste for a zoo-like university finally gets to me. I love going to the zoo! I adore the zoo. There is no better place to find wonder and delight. My hope is that as I prowl Regis these next few years, I focus less on the cage and more on the discoveries to be unearthed inside it.
