Hello, Pepperdine, I’m pleased to be here — a new transfer student excited to start her first year. It’s been a long time coming.
From a very young age, I recognized that my mind was my single greatest asset in life. I knew that intelligence was a formidable tool that must be honed and sharpened to become deadly. So, I always took it for granted that I would go to college some day, that I would and could excel in academia and anything else I put my mind to, if only I were clever enough.
That was the foundation of my lifetime prospectus, as a child. A fuzzy and ill-defined projection of my own future, filled with the fruits of hard work and determination. Pepperdine was always a clearer detail in that future-image.
For most of my life I’ve lived in Calabasas, in Malibu Canyon, and most of my childhood days were spent at the beach. Every time our family made the 10-minute drive to the shore, we cruised by the campus dominated by the edifice of the Phillips Theme Tower.
“Look Sienna, there’s Pepperdine!” I can distinctly remember my mom saying. Being only 9 years old at the time, I would press my face unashamedly against the cool glass of the minivan window and stare up at this impressive school, nestled on a cliff by the sea.
I was certain that someday I would enter that campus and walk up that hill, straight to that tower as a student on my journey to adulthood. I’ve always wondered, can you climb to the top of that tower? Are there stairs on the inside like the Statue of Liberty?
Either way, Pepperdine was the image I carried throughout my formative years of what a university meant. When I pictured “university,” my mind conjured up images of sloping lawns and a sparkling ocean. It was an excellent motivator to work hard and excel in school. I started attending a local community college at 14, and now, at 18, here I am, with an associate’s degree in journalism under my belt as well as a clearer future-image than the one I had half my lifetime ago.
Getting started here, after the whirlwind of NSO (“Excuse me, can you tell me where CBC is?” “Also, can you tell me what it stands for?” “Is everything here an acronym?”), my first impression was that the experience of being a student at Pepperdine was both alien and familiar, in ways that I haven’t honestly fleshed out in my own mind just yet. There will be time for that sort of introspection later; right now I’m more concerned with actually living my life as fully as I can, so it’ll be worth reflecting on in the future.
Now, when I think about the future, I think in terms of the new horizons an education at Pepperdine will reveal to me.
I feel as if a new chapter in my life has just begun, and with a little luck, a little drive, and a lot of cleverness and creativity, just about anything could happen, right?
That feeling will wear off, I know. Once I get into the swing of life as one of the Waves, the new-experience glow will dim once my eyes adjust. That’s okay, though. That’s what adapting to a new environment is about: being at home in one’s new surroundings. For instance, does anyone at Pepperdine actually refer to him or herself as a “Wave?” I have no idea, but I’ll find out soon enough. Maybe I’ll look back at this column one day and smirk at my own faux pas.
Whatever. What I do know, is that no matter what I get out of the experience of being here, the fact that I got here means the world. The little 9-year-old bookworm with frizzy hair and glasses that’s still with me is jumping for joy.
