I was busy with my homework, as was typical for a Thursday evening. I had a stack of Spanish vocabulary terms to memorize before Monday’s quiz. My roommate was working on his general chemistry homework, and we were making good progress. At that moment, my neighbor swung open the door to our dorm, announcing that we were late for the mandatory cookie meet-and-greet with Dean Gresalfi. Instantly, I shut down my computer, and my roommate closed his chemistry tab — he was already a quarter of the way through his homework. We both scrambled to put on our best outfits, and next thing we knew, we had a sugary treat in our hands while making small talk with the rest of the dorm. We were content, but we would have been happier if we had been studying for our upcoming exams or focusing on our homework. We had been looking forward to an evening of study and fun, only to end up at a mandatory event instead.  

 It’s not just the cookie meet-and-greet. It’s the myriad of mandatory events that first-years are required to attend. As if the struggle of college homework and quizzes wasn’t already enough, we are being forced into activities that many of us fail to see as important. The first few weeks are meant for adjusting to the university, and this coerced adjustment only leads to frustration among the student body. 

We must still acknowledge that what the administration is trying to do is commendable. Giving us a chance to socialize and connect with our peers during the first few weeks of school should be viewed positively. In fact, I have made some great friends at these events, and credit is due for that. Some events were truly memorable: the fireworks at Founder’s Walk were incredible, the volleyball game was phenomenal and I sensed a feeling of community when we recited the community creed in the Student Life Center. 

 However, aside from these highlights, some events felt pointless. First-years had to complete long educational modules about subjects ranging from academic honesty to sexual assault, each ending with tests meant to ensure retention. But these modules weren’t the last time we were required to sit through sessions on the same issues.  

First was the True Life play that the VUceptors put on for freshman during orientation. Mostly everyone enjoyed it, as it featured some of their VUceptors and helped engage the audience with its real-life scenarios and jokes, but it also highlighted numerous scenarios that were presented in the Modules. Then on Saturday, we attended a lecture on sexual assault, which was largely a repeat of the modules as well. Afterwards came the community creed, which could have been easily and more impactfully included in the Founder’s Walk as part of our symbolic introduction to the Vanderbilt community.  

Altogether, these events took about five hours of our Saturday, which could have been used for homework or catching up on sleep during an already hectic week.  However, the most infuriating requirement was ironically the Chancellor’s Biography Speech and Q&A. The speech lasted 90 minutes but could have been condensed into a short YouTube video for students to watch in their own time. The Q&A, too, could have been handled online, with questions collected by email and answered in a recorded format. It is commendable that Vanderbilt administration shows the Chancellor’s openness and clarifies its positions on key issues, but the entire event felt like a complete waste of time. 

 “Fun” events put on by the Vanderbilt administration, like the Class of 2029 celebration or the volleyball games, should not be mandatory. Founder’s Walk should have been the primary celebration for the Class of 2029, yet the administration decided to flex its biceps full of endowment money and forced us to admire its beauty with the Class of 2029 celebration even further. These celebrations are not all meaningless, but they become repetitive. Repetitive to the point where the first-years are tired of going and would rather spend evenings in their dorms relaxing and talking with friends. The same applies to the games. Forcing fun on students is impossible, for having fun requires optionality. 

 The solution is simple: limit the number of mandatory events for first-year students. I appreciate that the administration wants to foster friendships and camaraderie within the Class of 2029; however, these forced gatherings don’t create meaningful relationships. Rather, they are producing superficial small-talk connections that fade once the event is over. The administration should limit the number of mandatory events so that the first-years can get to know each other in an organic manner. That way, relationships are not made just for the sake of getting their minds off the event but can instead foster growth and harmony together throughout college. I stand firm in telling the administration: enough with the mandatory events!