I wasn’t even a week into my first semester at Colgate University when three identical emails appeared in my inbox with the subject line reading “Leah, you are invited to First-Year Jumpstart!” The title was enticing and inviting. It was as if the advisors at the jumpstart would have the secret message for success. Like many of my classmates, I wondered if it would help me get ahead. Was it mandatory? Was everyone else going? What secrets are they going to tell us?
That night, I followed the swarms of first-years flocking to the Edge Café. About a hundred of us sat in the chairs in the middle of the room, small talking with our already formed cliques. After checking in on the app “Handshake,” a career advisor walked to the front. With a large smile, he looked ready to share his knowledge about “the most important skill you’ll learn at Colgate.”
Networking.
Our first task sounded simple enough: talk to someone new about their career goals. The first two students the speaker called on to share what they had learned about each other both said they both wanted to be investment bankers and liked watching football.
How interesting.
The advisor grinned like a proud parent. After talking for thirty more minutes about the importance of alumni and internships, a different career advisor announced that anyone who stayed late and “networked” with different people could win prizes. These included Colgate mugs, blankets and bookstore gift cards. I remember glancing around the room as people dove into conversation with urgency like people at a job fair, not first-years. I was not sure what felt stranger: the idea that conversations and friendships had to be tallied or that we were being rewarded for pretending to be interested in each other’s career goals. Why were we given prizes for “networking” with our classmates? Can’t we just talk to each other?
The key takeaways of this “jumpstart” were short and clear:
- Make a first-year advising appointment
- Start thinking about your career now.
So I did. When I met with a career advisor, Ms. Harper, she told me that this was her busiest season. She assured me it was okay not to know what I wanted to do, but then immediately encouraged me to look into consulting and get on LinkedIn as soon as possible. After leaving the appointment, I immediately made an account on LinkedIn and uploaded my high school jobs and volunteering hours, feeling both productive and concerned.
Later that night, while my friends and I got ready to go out, someone joked that we had to go out because parties are the perfect place to network. We laughed, but I felt on edge. Can we no longer just meet people to make friends? Why are we so concerned with our future careers?
The next week, I joined the debate team. When I told people, the first question was always, “So, you want to be a lawyer?” When I said no, they looked genuinely confused. “Well, it’s great for your résumé,” they said, assuming that is why I was doing it. After a few practices, I noticed that almost every conversation drifted toward law school admissions, concerns over low GPAs or discussions about the best summer opportunities to become the best lawyer. Even in a club meant for argument and curiosity, we were talking about the next step, not the present moment.
I do not understand why, at a small liberal arts college that doesn’t even make us declare a major until sophomore year, we are all so obsessed with résumés and LinkedIn profiles. Why can’t we just do activities because we like them? Why does everything have to have a professional purpose?
This pressure to professionalize everything, even friendship and hobbies, makes the first-year experience feel forced and surface-level. Instead of exploring what we love, we start branding ourselves before we’ve figured out who we are. This transactional way of connection is unnatural and unhealthy.
As first-year students, we deserve time to learn just for the sake of learning, to try things that might never fit neatly on a résumé. There is so much value in debating for fun, meeting new people without a separate agenda or joining a club just because it sounds interesting.
Yes, I know we all want to have jobs after leaving Colgate, but does it have to dictate our every action? Together, we need to put less emphasis on networking, so maybe, even if it’s just in our first year, we can actually start connecting to form lasting relationships rather than connections for job opportunities.
