Essay: College is a Simulation

I woke up Aug. 20 to the stillness of an empty dorm with a few plants and books on the desk, a duffel bag half-heartedly shoved in the direction of the closet and absolutely no idea what to do. 

Going out into the world seemed harrowing. That first night in August, I didn’t leave my dorm for the entire day. The following week involved hyping myself up quietly before going to a Welcome Week event. It’s been about three months since then and I, like most others, have more or less found my footing with this newfound independence.

Although my first trip to Target involved fumbling over foldable grocery bags, dropping my mixed berry yogurt and mumbling a “thank you” to the cashier while vowing never to return again, I’ve gotten used to it. There’s not much to be afraid of when you realize everything you need is a 10-minute walk away at most. 

On the phone with my mom, I asked her if she remembered Kidzania, a theme park in Mexico City where I’d attended a birthday party once as a kid. It was a city for kids, laid out like a small town and everyone was allowed to pick a different job — from firefighters to journalists. Citizens of Kidzania were given fake money to spend on groceries or shops.

Looking back, Kidzania isn’t too different from being in college. The entire experience can be described as an adulthood simulation. 

Our IDs seemingly have every function a Loyola student could need for basic survival. Access to the buildings, dorms and dining halls — essentially a student’s entire on-campus life on one tiny piece of plastic. It can even be used as a glorified credit card with Rambler Bucks, in my mind the equivalent to Kidzania’s fake paper money.

In many ways, it’s exactly what I thought life would be like as a kid. If you asked a 6-year-old to go grocery shopping, their shopping list probably wouldn’t be too far from my own — milk, fruit and a family sized bag of sour gummy worms. 

My every worldly possession fits in one half of a bedroom. My friends live across the street or a few floors above me. The entire universe has shrunk down to the space between West Loyola Avenue and West Granville Avenue. 

In other ways, the problems got bigger than young me expected them to. Where Kidzania offered jobs in making cupcakes or perfumes, college offers biology labs and courses on obscure Japanese authors. 

It’s easy to forget in the close-knit environment of college that everyone is getting closer to reaching that last milestone before adulthood. Unlike trying out a fake profession, the classes we choose are indicative of what we want to pursue in life. 

However, perhaps the silliness of the college simulation is perfect for the strange limbo between childhood and adulthood. Just as life gets increasingly serious, it can be nice to embrace the Kidzania of college.