Today I went to watch the sunset up on the hill. Moving to set up my hammock, I abruptly learned that another group had reserved the fire-pit space, and would be setting up in the next half-hour, and I left, rather than risk the awkward intrusion. Flustered, I retreated to safe territory: my apartment, and homework on a Saturday night. 

(Clearly, I struggle with work/life boundaries.) 

  This isn’t what Saturday night looks like for your average college student, I’m sure. I understand that I’m part of a certain population of undergrads: academically motivated, over-committed, and prey to the looming feeling of discomfort when I have too much uncompleted homework. This delightful fusion prescribes the sort of routine that thrives in a college environment, a routine in which I am running from commitment to commitment and refreshing my email while I eat.A routine in which a Saturday night doing homework in an attempt to carve out a little more R&R on Sunday feels justifiable. 

College, as an institution and a lifestyle, is built for flexibility. Our campus spaces are built to accommodate late nights–coffee shop, library, 24-hour computer lab. Working in the same place you live can be incredibly convenient, especially if you can eat there, too (looking at you, Northlawn.) As a tour guide, one of the selling points I offer prospective students is that they can print their essay at 2 a.m. in their pajamas without even leaving their dorm. And they can–students with rigid day-time schedules because of athletics or internships, those who are looking for the community and/or accountability aspect of shared workspaces, or who are simply nocturnally prone may be able to take advantage of working in their living spaces without disturbing their work-life equilibrium. 

Especially busy students may also fall within this group out of necessity. Maybe you’re taking a hefty credit load, like my friend who has taken 18 credit hours every semester for the past two years (engineering students, we feel for you.) Maybe you’re involved in multiple clubs/organizations, are tied up with work, or athletics, or all of the above. No matter what your commitments, everyone gets 24 hours, and the hours you’ve already committed are hours you can’t use for anything else. And while being involved is good, for me, there’s been a fine line between “being involved” and “being over-committed.” 

Colleges are ripe with opportunities to get involved. Join this club! Attend this event! Support your athletes! Come play games in the gym (did we mention there’s free food?)! As a first-year, I remember feeling grateful that these opportunities were served up on a platter.I was just one notification away from plugging into the EMU community (granted, this was during COVID so a lot of events were online, but still.) This is a wonderful thing if you can keep it at a manageable level.

I know this probably isn’t a struggle for all students. I know peers who have chosen to draw sharper lines between their obligations and their free time and peers who deliberately choose schedules with lighter loads (academic or otherwise.) I know college is a time when we are learning how to organize our time, and choosing how to live our lives–and so how do I dare to complain about this freedom, this privilege? 

I truly am grateful for the flexibility and opportunities that college presents. However, because of the many messages pushing us to be involved, many demands on our time, and so few boundaries that keep our work separate from the rest of our lives, many in my circle–including myself–find ourselves in precarious instability. 

For all the demands that pull at my schedule, I see precious few messages encouraging more deliberate prioritizing. I do know of students who have banned homework from their apartment, choosing to complete it elsewhere and leave their home a work-free zone. I am grateful to have had professors who tell me to “aim for the qualify” in classes that use an “A, Qualify, or Fail” grading scale, or who tell me they will take points off if I don’t go take a nap (I didn’t, and the professor didn’t, but it made me think twice about prioritizing sleep). 

So as we navigate undergraduate education, I want to give us permission to look more closely at the lines that we draw. Where can we work to leave our work behind? Where can we simply rest, and breathe, and be? 

How can we give ourselves time, space, and permission to watch the sunset on a Saturday night?