By Gabriella Gomperts, Senior Features Editor
In my first year at Stern, I took Archaeology with Dr. Jill Katz (as everyone should during their time at Yeshiva University). The class examined world prehistory, the advent of agriculture and the rise of social complexity. On the midterm, one question asked us to describe how the concepts we learned in class were applicable to our lives. I compared starting college to the experiences of the first Aboriginal Australians, who ventured out beyond everything they had previously known in order to discover something new.
Here’s what I wrote: “The motivations that brought Aboriginal Australians to seek out new lands is easily applicable to me as a Stern student. I left my hometown seeking an adventure and a change of scenery. I have to learn how to survive in a new environment without the support and familiarity of the place I left.”
I was alluding to what I now understand college to be (thanks, again, to another one of Dr. Katz’s classes, Cultural Anthropology): a rite of passage.
The phrase was coined by Arnold van Gennep, an anthropologist who examined the significance of rituals associated with transitional stages of life. The point of a rite of passage is in its ability to raise one’s status. More specifically, rites of initiation denote the entrance into adulthood. In order for an individual to merit a coming-of-age ceremony, they must have mentors, a change in social status and pedagogical ascension. The ritual doesn’t just mark the individual’s newfound status; it itself is what elevates it. Though secular American culture doesn’t feature many rites of passage, graduation ceremonies stand out as a prime example of a status-changing ritual.
Though I had never heard of van Gennep before this semester, I intuitively understood his ideas around rites of passage, and this informed how I treated my time in college.
Van Gennep explains that there are three stages to initiation into a higher social status. Upon completing them, the individual should emerge changed and reincorporated into their life as an adult. I view my college years through this lens.
The first stage is separation from the life the individual had previously known. When I came to Stern, it was the first time I was away from home for a significant amount of time. I came to New York City, separated almost entirely from everything and everyone I had ever known, and was given virtually unbridled freedom. In the first week, this independence was exciting. But though I continued to have a great time, independence also came with homesickness and loneliness. This isolation, though, is necessary to arrive at the next stage.
The second and most important phase is the transition stage, also known as the liminal or the “betwixt and between” phase. I had to learn how to fend for myself without the support I was accustomed to. That first semester was one of the most difficult of my life. The novelty of my independence wore off, my workload increased and the weather grew colder. Balancing my new responsibilities without the guidance (and beautiful weather) I had at home was arduous. Though this stage is the most challenging, it’s also where meaningful growth occurs.
The third stage is reincorporation, when the individual is brought back into their village transformed into an adult. For me, this will be signified by graduation, perhaps the ultimate ritual of initiation, and leaving Stern. In theory, I will be returning to my previous life, but with the skills needed to support myself. Not to mention the degree itself, which alone elevates my status as a college graduate.
I came to Stern seeking an adventure, and found myself in a liminal state. While my college years have most definitely qualified as an adventure in ways I never expected, the real meaning of my time here was in the personal growth I experienced along the way.
It’s only in a place like college that one is forced to exist and simply learn, with the time, space and freedom for reinvention. The responsibilities here are extremely low stakes, if you’re not killing yourself for a perfect GPA.
I had zero expectations when I came to Stern. I had no idea what I wanted to do or where I wanted to end up. Especially in the beginning, treating college like an experience and not just a means to a degree opened up opportunities for self-discovery and growth. I had the freedom to struggle with new ideas and weigh various career options. It also allowed me to confront my fear of failure without any real risks. I knew that I would figure things out eventually, and that the process would change me along the way.
Despite the challenges and the uncertainty I faced during the liminal stage, I can confidently say that I am proud of the person that has emerged from this journey. Graduation symbolizes reincorporation — signifying the weight of what we have gleaned from our time in college. As I walk across the commencement stage and leave the YU bubble, I am eager to put the skills, knowledge and maturity I have obtained to good use.
Photo Credit: Courtesy of Gabriella Gomperts