To Think Like We Are 17
- Darisse Smith
- May 29, 2024
- 4 min read
Episode 1: Nachos
When I first stepped onto the Davidson College campus on a college visit when I was 17, I instantly fell in love. The campus was green, with trees everywhere, students were studying on picnic blankets on the lawn, everyone in the Admissions Office was kind and welcoming. Davidson is one of the top 10 liberal arts schools in the country, so I knew I would be getting a top education. Davidson has an honor code that is so embedded in the culture of the school that students take self-scheduled exams. You decide when you will take what exam, plop yourself in a random room in the main academic building, take the test, and turn it in. There are no proctors, because no one cheats. To me, my decision was done. If I got in, I would be going to Davidson. Here's the catch: at the time, Davidson cost about $40,000 per year, and neither my parents nor I had that kind of money. I would need loans and a scholarship to go there.
To me, someone who had never had a credit card in her name, or even my own bank account, having that kind of debt was no big deal. I didn't think beyond my emotions. I had to go there. My parents, who had spent their lives in debt paying for my and my brother's education, were acutely aware of how that kind of debt would affect me for the rest of my life. They were torn, because they wanted me to go to a school that I loved, but didn't want me graduating with a crushing amount of debt.
I looked at other options, mostly West Point (which was free), but West Point terrified me. On the West Point college tour, my parents were whisked away on a nice historical tour--this President and this famous General went here, look how pretty the Hudson River is, what a great education your child will be getting, etc. I was whisked away to follow a Plebe (1st year hazing target) for a few hours, and it was the opposite experience. The female plebe walked to and from her classes in terror because she had to be prepared for anything an upperclassmen requested of her--go get me a paper, why didn't you salute me at this exact distance, what is the headline on the New York Times this morning--pure ridiculousness. I wanted to give her a hug and tell her that it didn't have to be this way!
As I sat in the back seat of the car listening to my parents rave about how wonderful West Point was, I was very torn. I would please my Dad in particular if I went to West Point. I would undoubtedly get a good education there. I would have status in my Army career that would follow my graduation (which wasn't actually true, but I didn't know that then). It would be completely free.
In the end, my 17 year old "wisdom" won. I earned an Army ROTC scholarship to pay for about half of my Davidson tuition. I graduated with $40,000 in debt, probably $5,000 in credit card debt, and a 4 year commitment to the Army. After 9/11, I also committed to 1 year in Iraq. After 7 years in the Army, I had a back that required 5 different surgeries and PTSD. Even though I earned $36,000/year as a 2nd Lieutenant, my debt ensured I lived off of Ramen noodles and airfield nachos for the duration of Flight School.
Knowing all of this now, you would think that my 17 year old logic was foolish. You would think that I would regret following my heart (my emotions) and choose Davidson. I have no regrets. If I had made a purely logical and practical decision, I would not have met my husband of 22 years, Jeff. I know it sounds cheesy, but he is the absolute love of my life. He has stood by me through some really hard times, especially times in the aftermath of my year in Iraq. Without Jeff, there would be no Devin, our 12 year old son who is adorable and kind and smart, and a joy. Even though my 7 years in the Army came with daily hardships, I gained so much confidence and experience because of it. I did some really cool things in the Army--like flying a helicopter. My time in Iraq was hard, for sure, but I got to embed myself in two very different cultures--Korean and Kurdish, and learn about the complexities of Middle East vs. United States politics.
There are times in our lives where practicality is a must. But somewhere, as we age, we lose sight of factoring in our emotions as we make decisions. Sometimes we have to go with our gut, or take a chance. Sometimes, believe or not, we have to think like a 17 year-old.
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