What Columbia Accidentally Taught Me

My advice for freshmen as an international student far from home

Photo by Sebastian Galbenus

Welcome to Morningside Heights, freshmen!

I want to take this opportunity to share my two cents: Columbia is an amazing school, perhaps precisely because of its many drawbacks.

This is the place where you will, through all your trials and tribulations, become an adult.

This is not to say there aren’t any positives: Apart from the obvious academic rigor, the Core Curriculum, the amazing faculty, and the diversity of interesting personalities, it’s the little things that make Columbia what it is. The random conversations that lead to surprising friendships, the people you join playing volleyball on the Butler Lawns when you’re procrastinating, the random side quests you go to that are the most interesting thing you’ll do all week, and so much more.

But there will be many obstacles in your way. Growing up in rural Romania, my transition to embracing a cosmopolitan education in New York revealed as much about myself as it did about Columbia. Determined to go to university in the US since the ninth grade, I received a lot of criticism, jealousy, and praise from the people around me. A lot of adults encouraged my journey, knowing that this close-minded country couldn’t provide the opportunities an ambitious, soon-to-be adult needed.

Still, other adults—especially some of my teachers—heavily criticized my decision. Why would I leave this beautiful country to strive for something more, to do something harder? Why leave comfort just to become “great”? (Pardon the one Nietzsche-inflected remark, I assure you I’m not that type of freak.) While I agree with their claim now that one doesn’t need to strive for a materialistic or social standard of “greatness,” what subconsciously angered me then—and still does now—was their lack of open-mindedness. Why did they revolt so strongly at the idea of me studying in America?

I understood the comments at the time about my arrogance and lack of empathy, which I was guilty of, but what was the catalyst that made me become a more empathetic and down-to-earth man? It was, in fact, coming to Columbia and talking with so many different types of people, each with vastly different views of life—something that was impossible for me to do in a small town in Romania.

The moment I first arrived on campus, I was filled with combined senses of excitement, anxiousness, and the extraordinary feeling of being overwhelmed. Homesickness and nostalgia hit quickly. To any international student feeling this way, my NSOP leader gave me the best piece of advice that calmed my uncontrollable feeling of sentimentality. Imagine you have two homes: one in your home country and one at Columbia. It’s like going to your grandparents’ over the summer as a kid because your parents were too annoyed with dealing with you.

I also came to terms with the reality that you may not be able to go back to your home country for a while. From my experience, while video calling your family is not the ideal solution, rest assured that you will find a way to stay connected to them. Even when life gets busy or when you feel down, staying connected with them is the cornerstone that will keep you grounded. Furthermore, if you are an international student who feels a sense of guilt for having left your family, gravitate towards those other students in similar situations. Even if those people found themselves on opposite sides of conflicts back home, I’ve witnessed the international student community support one another and demonstrate that grief doesn’t have to be a solitary act. At the very least, it should suggest that we can be a bit more open-minded and empathetic with one another.

Whether you’re rich, poor, have traveled the world, or never left your hometown until now, you are all here now, so you were probably one of the highest achievers in your school. When you gather a few thousand high achievers in one place, the result is impostor syndrome. This can manifest in two ways: either false overconfidence or extreme underconfidence. You will quickly find out that university doesn’t compare to high school. It will humble you, hard. This can lead to the intensification of the fake self-confidence, which deep down really is just internal impostor syndrome. You need to find the balance between being humble and confident, and ultimately, compare yourself only to yourself.

You will meet peers who are better than you academically, or who brag about their first internship for the summer between freshman and sophomore year when they return in September—one that they probably secured through nepotism. You should not resent these people, because in reality, our network is stronger than any resume. Don’t let impostor syndrome stop you from fostering professional relationships or even taking advice from those who are successful in your field. Make use of the network that Columbia provides, but do it genuinely and because you’re willing to put in the hard work; don’t be a gold digger. Nobody is expecting you to provide groundbreaking value. Just showing up, being respectful, and showing curiosity is a very good start.

So many people I know here either view academics as easy or extremely challenging, to the point that a surprising number of students claim to have ADHD just to legally receive the sweet GPA booster (only one chemical compound away from meth) that is Adderall. In reality, Columbia is as hard as you make it to be. You could take the easier physics course or the harder one. You could take 21 credits in your first four semesters, have an easier junior and senior year, or you could take as many fun electives as you want and realize you’re going to have a hell of a senior year. Everybody bites off more than they can chew at the beginning and thinks they can handle it. You can’t: It might take a semester or two, but you will come to realize how much you can actually handle.

A common mistake I find students making—and one I made myself in my freshman year—is putting certain courses on a pedestal. This mentality will create an anxiety factory of an existence for you, one that produces many sleepless nights and high-caloric early morning stops at JJs. It’s better to be emotionally detached from the courses that at first scare you. That doesn’t mean you don’t care; just don’t raise the stakes to an astronomical level. Focus on your GPA, but don’t obsess over it. A bad grade, or a bad semester, can always be fixed in the next one. It’s up to you to modify your lifestyle, workload, and work ethic to improve. And be ballsy. Don’t mass email professors for research opportunities: instead, go to their office with your resume and talk with them, face-to-face. Be interested in what they are doing and show it. Maybe you will be rejected by a few, but it certainly has higher odds than hopelessly writing follow-up emails to an already overflowing inbox.

For all the social and political polarization that’s come to characterize campus over the past couple of years, if you are craving an intense hunger to expand your social horizons, I believe that Columbia is probably one of the best universities for that. It is a melting pot of interesting and diverse people. You will quickly find the many first-timers in New York who will be enthusiastic to explore the city with you.

While walking to Butler to do your first homework assignment, you will encounter the sometimes mysterious and sometimes obnoxiously loud “Butlerian smokers,” who will offer you a cigarette. It is important you take it, not necessarily to smoke it, but to engage in conversations with a highly diverse set of personalities with the most interesting (and sometimes horrifying) stories. And don’t worry if you don’t find a stable friend group right away: This school is big, and a lot of students find their people in a semester or two.

Finally, I feel as though you can perceive the weight of the history of Columbia throughout the campus in the way people approach debates and conversations. It is instilled in all of us, whether consciously or not. Having such a concentrated population of intelligent people with strong beliefs should be a positive, right? The major flaw in our current discourse, and one expanded upon extensively by Sundial, is that we are not hearing each other out.

I am not always comfortable, but I have a lot of conversations with people with wildly different beliefs from mine, some of whom have done acts that I consider unforgivable—like killing innocent civilians while deployed. Still, I want to hear everybody out because I want to understand why people believe what they believe, so that I can learn more about myself and what I really believe in.

The main takeaway we have after we graduate is the ability to know how to think, be intellectually curious, and have as much empathy as possible. We were all selected to attend this school not only because of our academics, but also because our vibes can foster a community that continues the legacy that was built in the past. We can get along, and we should realize that we have more commonalities than differences, no matter where you come from or how rich or how poor you are. Every one of our different worldviews and experiences converges, at the very least, at Columbia.

And yet, much as we may talk to one another, unfairness is everywhere. Whether it’s a bad financial aid offer that will make you pay loans for the next 50 years, or your lab partners grading you down so that they get a higher score, you will, sooner or later, come to face unfairness. To truly adapt and succeed here—or for that matter anywhere—you have to get used to unfairness. It is also important to recognize when you are at fault. (For example, wasting your money by playing pool against that guy at 1020 who always pockets all the balls first. That’s on you.) Take the opportunities to smarten up when they come your way.

There is always so much to learn every day, so go out, explore, and find your own understanding of what Columbia means to you. With every stage of life, there are always new challenges to face. How they shape your self-definition and outlook on life depends on you.

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Mr. Galbenus is a junior at the Fu Foundation School of Engineering and Applied Science studying mechanical engineering. He is a staff writer and photographer for Sundial.

The opinions expressed in this article are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the Sundial editorial board as a whole or any other members of the staff.