Arriving home later from school than I expected, I dump my bag on the floor and make a mad dash for the closet. I am a little angry with myself that I did not plan in advance. If I didn't dress for business casual during the day, I should have at least listened to my second year peers – always keep a suit in your locker. The Cornell network remains one of its strongest virtues, and opportunities to meet speakers, recruiters, and alumni are everywhere. Nonetheless, these events are so numerous that not all of them make your radar. I am done with class, team meetings, and club projects for the day, but I have 15 minutes to change and run back to the Statler Hotel, where a corporate briefing and reception are scheduled. Now, I am frantically searching through a pile of Ann Taylor separates, and at the same time, wondering what the hell happened to me.
It is only 10 weeks into business school, and although I don't have my wardrobe perfected, I am comfortable mingling with people from industries of which I have no experience. Thanks to the Career Management Center, second-year mentors, and student-run organizations (i.e., Marketing Association; Consulting Club; Old Ezra Finance Club; Operations and General Management Club; and Strategic HR, Leadership, and Organizational Effectiveness) first years have a variety of resources. Not only are we prepped on industry knowledge, but we are also exposed early to the formalities, intricacies and oddities of the recruiting process. For one thing, most resume submissions for summer internships are months away, but to make the interview closed list in January, attending corporate briefings in October is essential. This is the third briefing I've attended this week, and if anything, I am becoming better at knowing what I want to do, and most importantly, what I don't.
Three hours, two glasses of wine, and four business cards later, I am home again, this time staring at a blank, freshly created Word document. Along with corporate receptions, networking events, and informational interviews, these first 10 weeks also include coursework in core classes. Like many hubristic first years, I like to believe that I can juggle career prospects, club activities, and academics, all while maintaining natural good looks and down home charm. However, I am quickly learning is that while there is opportunity to do anything, there is little time for everything. Those who overextend themselves most likely wind up like me -– exhausted, cranky, a little drunk (so I didn't have dinner, ok?), and uncertain on what was really accomplished that day.
For the time being, I am uncertain on what must be accomplished within the next few hours –- a paper due at 8:40 in the morning. In 500 words or less, I must pose a question about human behavior, understand the economic concept behind it, explain the answer in neophyte terms, and most importantly, make it interesting. Led by Professor Robert Frank, the core Economics class uses the "Economic Naturalist" assignments to apply ideas in a way that they are not forgotten. Much like his well-known books and "Economic Scene" column in the
New York Times, Professor Frank frames economics in a way that challenges us to think, rather than to remember. Using my experience working with teenagers, I explain through supply and demand concepts why high school romance is so heart-wrenching and dramatic. I have no idea how it will be graded, but at the very least, it was fun to write.
I probably get four, maybe five, hours of sleep, until an annoying yet gentle knock hammers at my door. "Kate? You awake?" Christina Keller, my roommate/classmate is already up. "I'm gonna sit outside and do some yoga before class…You wanna join me?" Christina is one of most the fascinating people I know. At age 24, she owns a company, has work experience all over Africa, and effortlessly wakes up before she is required.
Answering the ridiculous girl with a definitive "No," I'm relieved when her footsteps fade to Jenny's room. Jenny Ortiz, my second roommate, is another person I wonder about. Although rational to reject early morning workouts, Jenny is President of the Riordan Fellows Alumni Association and holds leadership roles in eight other community-based organizations.
Eight. I hate living in the shadow of a
Park Fellow.
The three of us make our 10-minute walk to campus a daily ritual which is probably very nerdy, but to me, it's kind of nice. Maybe it's because I know that once the day starts, I won't see much of the household until late night, and sometimes not even until the next day. While we share the same courses, professors, assignments, and deadlines (unless tested out, all first years do), it is rare that we are ever at the same place at the same time. And with the little time we have each day, it's amazing how differently we each choose to allocate it.
For example, in marketing class, it is clear to me who had prepared for today's discussion on TiVO and new product launches. Leanna Beck, who routinely captivates the class, supports her argument with facts from the case, references to past experience, and brilliant literary metaphors. As for me, having spent the last 24 hours on planning this year's Marketing Symposium, meeting recruiters, and becoming an Economic Naturalist, I have no idea what she's talking about (what does the tail of a tiger have to do with any of this?). With 15% of our final grade based on class participation, I spend the next 50 minutes speed reading the case, struggling to contribute, and trying to act natural. Unfortunately, marketing does not even compare to what's yet to come.