It's 9 p.m. on a Wednesday night, and in my book, I should be at one place and one place only: Copabanana, drinking margaritas. So you can imagine the state my friend and I were in when we found ourselves doing work instead. The only thing lower than our morale is our stash of study snacks. And as soon we as begin to study, we give up. As we pack our bags to head out, my head turns to me and says, "I mean, I might as well camp outside of Wharton with my legs open for the rest of the year. I got nothing done." I adamantly agree as I look down at my very unfinished study guide.
It wasn't until later that my friend's comment really started to bother me—she's one of the smartest people I've ever met. If anything, I should overhear lowly sophomore boys plotting to move next door to her senior year so they can swoop her up.
But this doesn't happen. Instead, I have the pleasure of hearing even more stories like this—how my other friend's swim coach openly told her in the first few months of school that the only thing she was going to get out of Penn was an "MRS. degree." I wish I could end that story by saying, "and then he quickly took it back and treated her to Sabrina's for the rest of the year, because he was so sorry for his behavior." But that didn't happen either.
For those of you who don't know what the MRS. degree is, it's essentially the idea that girls only go to college to meet a smart guy, marry them and then forever after fund their spa days and tennis lessons with Kyle. Constant undermining of female ability has tainted and warped female students' perception of marriage, and Penn is terrifyingly susceptible to this shift.
***
When I was little, my favorite childhood game was getting married to my five–foot giraffe. I would put on my mom's red lipstick, big hoop earrings that belonged to an old pirate costume and a creepy white lace shawl that belonged to my dead great–grandmother: the perfect bride. The first question you might ask is, "How did your mom not see this as early onset mental insanity?" My answer is that she did, and she was right.
But nevertheless, that is how I envisioned marriage when I was little: finding someone I loved and spending the rest of my life with it.
Surprisingly, it was Penn that warped my vision of marriage, not my giraffe husband. My freshman year, I found it hard to believe how many of my female peers felt inadequate in comparison to everyone around them. I think that this is what causes the MRS mentality. My friends are some of the brightest bulbs in the tanning booth, but their academic confidence says otherwise. Part of it may be humility, but a larger part of it is a genuine belief that they will never be at the top of the totem pole.
Before I came to Penn, I attended an all–girls private school that shoved down everyone's throat the idea that we were "women for the world." When I got to Penn, I expected the same encouragement and confidence. But I was quickly proven wrong. It's scary that even at one of the most prestigious schools in the world, girls still undermine the value of their education .
As far as I'm concerned, the only reason I should ever get married is because I have found someone whom I love so much that I want to be with him for the rest of my life—not because he got a 4.0 and already has an offer from JP Morgan next year, or because I can't seem to have a semblance of faith in my future as a career–woman.
So why do I still make "I'm going to camp outside of Wharton my senior year—screw this exam" jokes? I never hear guys joking about this, and that's partially due to the fact that most boys have a healthy (read: whopping) dose of confidence when it comes to their academic futures.
Yes, I'm still subscribed to Vera Wang Wedding and yes, at age thirteen, I decided that I wanted to walk down the aisle to "Under the Sea." But this is supplemented with the fact that I'll be marrying someone because he loves The Little Mermaid as much as I do, and not because he's got the money to pay for the string quartet.
I have no idea what my future holds, and education is one of the only things that will help me figure it out. In short, it's time to focus efforts on reaping the immense benefits that a college education provides. I'm going to shoot for CEO, for executive—and if I miss, well, we'll just blame those Wednesday nights at Copa.
