“Sorry, I don’t have time for that. I have to scroll through two hours of TikTok videos tonight.”
Although I have never said that sentence out loud, it has definitely been a reality on multiple occasions: finishing work for the night and doom scrolling on TikTok for hours on end. My half-completed knitting projects, journal and hundreds of books share a forgotten sigh, thinking about how I’ve chosen mindless scrolling over countless projects and hobbies once again.
I’ve created over 100 pieces of content for The Hustler, and yet I do not say being on The Hustler is my hobby or what I like to do for fun. Being on The Hustler has given me life-long friendships, time management skills and robbed me of thousands of hours of sleep. I consider it closer to being my job more than anything. My actual jobs include nannying, working at a school and serving as a teaching assistant — but those are not my hobbies.
In each of my endeavors, both on and off campus, my day is occupied to the minute with assignments, projects and driving all across Nashville. In each of my commitments, I found things I really loved: teaching children how to knit, learning sociological theories and using every Canva template known to man. After reflecting on what I loved about being on The Hustler and training to be a teacher, I discovered my true hobbies. I love writing, sitting on the lawn, trying new coffee shops and posting too much on Instagram. These are my hobbies, and they have nothing to do with serving on the executive board of a club or grading sociology essays.
While I was learning that writing, not being a writer, is my biggest hobby, I wrote tirelessly about how college is ending and how we need to try new things. We also need to discover who we are beyond being a student. Most of us have had our identities wrapped up in being a student for 15 or more years. I am a student-journalist; maybe you are a student-athlete or a student-leader. We’re going to be people, human beings, far longer than we will be students. And while our professors and parents may tell us ‘you’ll be a student of the world forever’ as we wrap up the melancholy ends of college life, it’s time to focus on what will now come before the hyphen. Maybe it will be professional-writer, or dedicated-leader. Maybe it will not be hyphenated at all: mother, professor, lawyer, happy.
Transitioning into adulthood is going to steal the security of college life right from under us. We’ll no longer have a meal plan (cue the confetti), guaranteed housing with our best friends or unlimited lounging time on Alumni Lawn. The comfort of always knowing someone in line at Rand or having social events planned for us by the programming board are ending soon. Our hobbies and schedules will no longer be controlled or wrapped into our lives as students.
The poet of our generation, Taylor Swift, once wrote, “you’re on your own, kid / yeah, you can face this.” You don’t need to have your post-grad life figured out by graduation day on May 9. But finding what brings you joy independent of being a student is a pretty great place to start.
Though we can’t exactly replicate the serotonin we gain on sunny days on the grass of Alumni Lawn, we can get pretty close. You may not be able to step right outside of your apartment onto a green workspace, but there are hundreds of metro parks and lawn spaces in whatever space you find yourself next school year. Miss Barbara will not be the one calling out your iced americano and croissant, but it will be so exciting to find the next coffee shop in your new city to assert yourself as a regular.
Saying goodbye to the familiarity of college is terrifying. But while learning to fall in love with the uncertainty, you may just find there’s so much more to life than whatever you could hope for. You may not be a club treasurer or student-journalist anymore, but your post-grad self is waiting to meet you. And I bet that person is holding an old guitar, going to a pottery class and getting ready to find just exactly what your true hobbies are.
