…That students at TU might need written out
Welcome to the University of Tulsa, class of 2030, and welcome back fellow returning students! While you are undoubtedly excited for your first week of classes, the uncertainty of navigating college — with its completely different social norms and abject lack of parents — can be a daunting task. Where should you sit in the Pat? What kind of clothes do you wear to class? How often should you be showering? To “keep it a churt,” as we say here, many seniors at this fine institution have yet to crack the case on these quandaries. The fact of the matter is that while TU’s student body possesses great skill in the language arts section of the PSAT, some (this author included) would be lucky to score a 200 on reading the room. Have no fear, though! In this article, The Collegian takes all the unwritten rules of etiquette you might not have known and conveniently lays them down in double-spaced, Times New Roman text so you can read it and either think “doesn’t everyone know that?” or think “wait, really?” but then say “oh yeah, haha. Everyone totally knows that.”
Just go to the bathroom
This is going to feel illegal the first time; I myself asked a professor to use the restroom on my first week. While I was able to save the situation with a charming and lightly self-deprecating joke about it the following day, few possess the generational devilish charm needed to pull out of such a nosedive. Just get up and leave. Trust me, no one is going to ask you where you are going. I spent 15/16ths of every STAT-4813 class walking to and from the park after dropping off my bag, and I think I might have been one of the professor’s favorite students.
The lanyard is NOT tough
They gave us all lanyards for orientation, and for orientation a lanyard was acceptable attire. But there are no ice-breakers in Calc II. Picture a classic college party, be it from film, comics or your own imagination. Now, how many of the attendees are wearing a blue plastic necklace with their school logo on it? Pro tip, your ID can open doors through a wallet and two layers of fabric, meaning the lanyard is not only about as cool as a pocket protector, but equally as useless. And please for the love of all that is sacred, do not go out and buy a different themed lanyard to replace the new one. Voluntary fashion suicide. Believe this: there is not and cannot be a system of dressing which is both predominantly made up of hard fits and compatible with the daily addition of a lanyard.
Talking in lecture is for emergencies only
On their own for the very first time, how many college students have struggled with the thought, “Does everyone hate me?” This really is a shame, mostly because they should be asking more important questions like, “Am I the most talkative person in Physics I?” More often than not, the answers to these two questions are the same. Many of us are ex-teachers’ pets, used to the shepherd’s crook of hand-raising and being called on. In those days, in-class comments could only come as often as your instructors wanted to hear them. Now you can ply your definition of charm with professors ad infinitum — much to the chagrin of your peers, and most of your professors too. Unsure whether to make a comment in class? First, consider whether it is a question you need answered to learn the content or literally anything else (i.e. a question about a related concept, your thoughts/perceived grasp on the subject, an attempt at humor, anything beginning with the words “isn’t it true…”). If it is the latter, remain silent. If it is the former, google the answer on your phone or laptop. While remaining silent.
Bare feet and dorm bathroom floors are not an acceptable combo
This one is more for you than your peers. As John Mabee Hall’s greatest advocate, even I must admit that the communal commode comes with certain occupational hazards; wear the proper PPE. I still think about the times I have heard the padding of skin on tile, glanced at the gap under my stall’s wall and seen a completely unprotected pair of dogs, just waiting to get Old Yellered by the strain of super crawfish Ebola now clinging to their soles. Don’t be a victim, wear shower slides.
Mobile ordering Einstein’s for lunch is a venial sin
People are going to disagree with me on this one. I do not care. Look, we all do it from time to time; there are situations where it becomes necessary. But if you make a habit of mobile ordering a turkey bacon avocado at 11:53 a.m. on a Wednesday, you might be a bad person. That line is the price we pay for peak. It keeps the heroes behind that counter from being overwhelmed, acting as a natural deterrent for order tsunamis. When you enter that mobile order, you do not know how swamped the workers already are, how many peers that little receipt is going to cut in line, how many thousands of other little receipts are already being spat at the employees’ feet in an unceasing barrage of clamoring orders. It is our duty — nay — our right to sit in that line and anxiously watch the last of our favorite bagel pass beneath the eyes of those ahead of us.
Hygiene. Is. Mandatory.
Your hair should be less than 50% oil by weight. Your clothes may be worn four times ABSOLUTE MAX before you wash them, only once for underwear and t-shirts. The length of your nails should not make it difficult to use a keyboard (I am not talking to the people with acrylics or painted nails. I am talking to the guy in my differential equations with the utter TALONS). You need to apply deodorant AND shower every day. With soap. Most of you are probably reading this and thinking, “well duh.” Some of you, I know for a fact, are not. This is your opportunity to say “well duh,” successfully avoiding being identified in conversations by your odor.
Be silent in the silent study rooms
This one actually is written down, but one more time would not hurt. Everyone can hear you talking in the McFarlin study rooms, and they are not fans. The other tables and chairs upstairs and downstairs, as well as the picnic tables conveniently just out on the steps are all available for social studying, so please take advantage. It is a beautiful thing to laugh over an ENGL-1033 essay prompt with friends, but one day you will be at that other table with 12 hours between yourself and the linear algebra final, and you will be grateful for the peace.
Everyone has to write for The Collegian at least once
Technically, nobody will make you do this. However, everyone will wonder why you would not want to get some money and an opportunity to share your voice in the proud newspaper of the University of Tulsa. As the universally acknowledged best student organization on campus, writing for The Collegian is pretty much a guaranteed status symbol. If you really want to be a big name on campus, stopping by Kendall Hall at 5 p.m. on a Monday is simply a must.
This list is by no means comprehensive, but if it saves even one of you from a social misstep that would have haunted you for the rest of your college career, it will have been a success. Good luck out there, and remember: no matter how embarrassing of a moment you might have this year, there will always be someone ready to do something weirder the next day. So yes, take showers, keep your ID in your phone case and try not to be a know-it-all, but don’t sweat it too much — you are going to be fine. Enjoy your first semester at TU!
