College Life and Urban Adjustment 

I don’t come from a small town. 

The population of Grand Rapids, Michigan, totals 201,183 people as of July 2025, yet it only accounts for a small fraction of the 2,731,585 residents of Chicago. 

A major reason students choose Loyola is for the change of scenery, to trade in small-town comfort for a metropolitan atmosphere. It grants a sense of independence and an opportunity to become a new version of yourself in an entirely different environment. 

While this external adjustment is exciting — making new friends, studying subjects of deeper interest, moving away from home — many students find the city’s broad community intimidating to their internal character, and the introduction of contrasting values incites a welcome mental challenge. 

I was raised in the Catholic school system surrounded by the same kids for the first 18 years of my life, providing me with a severe lack of socioeconomic and general diversity. 

In choosing Loyola, I saw adventure. 

Without sacrificing my love for my upbringing, I wanted to explore, to deepen my knowledge of the world and its people. Loyola’s student body comprises 47 U.S. states and 38 countries, representing a large portion of not only the United States, but the world. 

With limited global understanding, I was eager, yet ill-equipped to enter this community. The susceptibility to alternate religious, cultural and gender identities, as well as a large range of opinions, is something I never would’ve experienced staying home. 

Coming to a school and city with such a different culture from what I’m used to led me to question the foundation of my opinions and values. Realizing how little knowledge I had on these ideas and what caused me to follow them instilled fear in me, leaving me feeling ignorant on subjects I once felt confident in. 

The philosophical approach many Loyola professors take has aided me in finding a sense of curiosity in reevaluating the truth of my beliefs. Aristotle’s “Nicomachean Ethics” contrives the concept of finding your ethos, which can be simplified into defining your moral beliefs and characteristic virtues. 

In discovering these attributes, we also uncover what holds value in our lives. Virtues aren’t virtues unless you value them. 

Being good at something isn’t a virtue unless the person places value in it, including moral characteristics. Debating personal ethos reveals to be discovering what type of person they are and desire to be, which inherently contains trials, especially in those discontent with their current state.

At the core of the struggle, there is evolution. These hardships shouldn’t be solely viewed as faults or disadvantages, but rather as opportunities to grow and change. In finding your ethos, foundational beliefs may be redefined, but this redefinition is often accompanied by more positive outcomes than negative. 

The adjustment to urban life is challenging. It not only provides new external experiences, but also invites mental fortitude. Large cities often test virtue, but they yield opportunities to expand knowledge in ways no small town can, and it is important to accept these trials when they’re made available. 

By implementing what I’ve learned thus far, I’ve come to know this challenge as one worth the discomfort, and I’d offer that while it provides no guaranteed solution, the deeper level of thinking it provokes serves as a positive direction. 

Ignorance may be bliss, but knowledge is power.