As much as I would like to draw attention to the gorgeous piece of artwork that now has a home on my right shoulder blade, I can't. It simply isn't pertinent. However, what a tattoo represents and the process involved in with getting a tattoo is completely relevant to the college experience.
You are drowned out by a sea of students here at Rutgers, and while that can at times be alienating, it also affords you an immense amount of individual freedom to live life in whatever way you wish. You can wear nothing but sweats all day. You can eat nothing but Easy Mac for ever meal. You can shower only when you feel like it. And while I'm sure that some of these examples must hit home in a direct or indirect way, let’s talk about the liberty I took advantage of--getting a tattoo--to illustrate an instance where I used this new found freedom rather than abused it.
Let me say first that my parents knew that I was getting this tattoo. I talked to the before hand, and only with their blessing did I move forward. As cool as any ink may be, if it's etched with defiance it's not worth it. I approached them with all the expected concerns already weighed out: placement and content of the tattoo, well-researched choice of a tattoo shop, confidence in my choice to get one, etc.. It was easy to convince them, but that is only because I had a complete handle on what I was getting myself into. A tattoo is permanent, and getting one is painful. You need to be totally invested both in what your tattoo will mean to you and what it will take to make that a reality. Mine is in a spot that, for the most part, will be covered up. I did this to ensure that I can still have a professional appearance, while still considering the fact that I will enjoy my tattoo more than anyone else. For me, this is fine. It is a tattoo that has a lot of personal value. However, even with all this planning, the hardest part was being under the needle. With so much money and thought going towards a tattoo, you begin to second guess yourself. Mind you, these feelings are normal when two hours into getting inked up, but it was extremely helpful to have a strong conviction about what I was doing. Because when I finally saw my tattoo (remember, it’s on my back), it was worth the every bit of sweat.
There are a few ways in which getting a tattoo is analogous to college. To start, both require that a (respectively) substantial amount of money be invested. Both require a good deal of pain (one mental, one physical), and both leave a permanent mark on you as a person (one academic, one literal). Let me clarify.
Before you went to college, you likely had many talks with your parents about what school you would go to and what you would pursue in your studies. If you weren't entirely sure about either of those two things, your parents probably drilled you until you were so that they were sure their money was not going to be wasted. But once you got here, it was (and still is) entirely up to you whether or not that trust is betrayed. Without convincing yourself that you want to go to the school you say you do and that you want to pursue the major you say you do, you won't be able to endure the pain. Making every class and staying up late to study aren't things that happen without that commitment. You can't stop studying. You can't slack off. If you want to get where you dream of being, you have to endure the pain from start to finish. If you are able to accomplish that, then the pay off will be something that no one can take away from you: a degree and (likely) a ticket into medical or law or graduate school.
Put simply, a tattoo and college are alike in one critical way: you decide what mark they will leave on you and whether or not you will enjoy it. And trust me, that is not an analogy you should fail to see as critical, especially if you don't want to wake up one morning with Bugs Bunny on your forehead. Similarly, you don't want to wake every morning wondering why you bother going to work. Neither is worth the momentary pleasure found in ignoring these outcomes.
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