College. As a highschool student I would think about that word and what it meant for hours. I had spent my whole life going to school, studying, preparing for the opportunity to attain something more — the path to knowledge. This is not knowledge in the form of memorizing facts and rhetoric, but a knowledge centered on experiences, a quest to redefine and question all that I am and all that others may or may not be.

I could not wait to enter into a level of truly meaningful conversation about things that really matter, finally leaving behind the one-dimensional, materialistic clones of the high school world and moving on to people who actually had personality, interests, and most of all, substance.

What I found was a little more than disappointing. I learned one of my first lessons on the ways of the real world — people and ideals are pretty much the same wherever you go, with nothing changing except the scenery surrounding us all.

As a freshman last year, I recalled my first few days of classes and how I thought to myself how the students here were more superficial than my high school peers. I unearthed here in my newfound perceived playground of free and unlimited thought that many were so engrossed with the idea of becoming more like the next person until eventually their own self became lost in a muddled world of pointless transformation.

And now, a year later as a sophomore, not much has changed, except maybe a new fad or a new type of hairstyle. To actually believe that clothes make the person along with the wallet inside the designer jeans is sad.

We are all beautiful, and we all naturally belong, for we were all created by the same Spirit. We all have a voice, not intended to drown in confusion among thoughtless chatter. To recognize this voice as the most important distinguishing factor and to break free of the fear that entangles both weak and strong is discovering freedom itself.

It is a tragedy to witness those who wear masks to conceal reality. I once believed that college was all about acceptance. Now I'm not so sure. I am now inclined to think that it is mostly accepting that we must twist and contort our bodies to fit this mold of a pre-determined ideal of a worthy person. The hypnotic repetition, the sound of an army of footsteps, all marching to the same destination towards a fabricated mirage is disheartening to see.

Not everyone at this University fits the bleak description from above and many are here to actually experience the unfamiliar, the challenging, and even the frightening aspects of life. I heard somewhere along the way that everyday you should do something that scares you. It works.

"If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away." — Henry David Thoreau

• Except acceptance