Student: “Hi, my name is _________ (insert name of a non-transfer) and I’m a sophomore.”
Me: “Hey! I’m Alyssa. And, uh…I’m a transfer…and a sophomore.”
Student: “Are you living off campus?”
Me: “No, since I’m a transfer, I have to live on campus.”
Student: “Favorite sports team at Penn?”
Me: “I’m a transfer, so I haven’t gone to any school games yet.”
Student: “Favorite phrase?”
Me: “I’m a transfer.”
Student: “Favorite word?”
Me: “Transfer.”
If there was one thing I perfected by the end of my first semester at Penn, it was always having an answer to any question at the tip of my tongue. And you can bet that it involved the word “transfer.” I may as well have just tattooed the word to my forehead.
Yet, I am happy to say that after spending two years at Penn, the word “transfer” is no longer so relevant. I do not consider the label of “transfer student” to be my identity, but rather, I proudly identify as being part of the transfer community at Penn. Looking back on my first couple of months at Penn, I can’t quite determine what compelled me to blurt out that I was a transfer. I wouldn’t attribute it to being embarrassed. I wouldn’t attribute it to needing the comfort of a label—a way of establishing my niche on campus. I would equate it to feeling like I was living a double-life: ordinary student by day, but secretly a transfer. Instead of having people inevitably figure it out, I’d beat them to it and blurt out my status.
When it boils down, I think I simply wanted to blend in. I had the irrational fear of “normal” Penn students calling me out, of knowing I didn’t originally belong.
While I faced some of the same concerns as incoming freshmen, I came to Penn with one year of college under my belt. After spending my freshman year at Villanova University, I was able to reflect on how my first year went and what I would ideally want out of my college experience. Before starting college, I remember being told that college is a time for personal growth—a time for self-discovery. At Villanova, I was in a program that would have only allowed me to have only three years of undergraduate education. The idea of missing my senior year lingered as I went through freshman year, but what really motivated me to consider another university was this idea of “personal growth.” Yes, I sought academic challenge, but more importantly, I sought social growth. After much thought, I decided to transfer to Penn.
Some people would say that getting into Penn is the hardest part. While that is partly true, for me, the part that required the most effort was learning how to integrate into the Penn community.
In the beginning, I did everything to prevent other students from learning that I didn’t spend my freshman year of college at Penn. I never lied; I just became very good at avoiding. I changed the topic of conversation whenever people started to talk about freshmen dorms or brought up basic Penn knowledge. I especially avoided Huntsman Hall (I may or may not have set off the fire alarm my first week of classes by going down the wrong flight of stairs—transfer student red flag #1). I also learned that while, yes, lanyards are convenient, wearing one to carry my Penncard and keys wasn’t exactly a trending fashion statement beyond freshman NSO.
Over time, I became less concerned with blending in. My desire to integrate into the Penn culture evolved into wanting to feel like a “normal” student in the Class of 2016—a student who has had the typical college experiences spanning from freshman to senior year. As a result, I took every opportunity to get involved in activities on campus. I felt compelled to try out as many clubs and activities as possible to compensate for the year I never had at Penn. So, I tried out for club tennis—rejected. Tried out for Hype—rejected. Joined an intramural basketball team—could not be rejected but became a proud benchwarmer. Despite my failed attempts, eventually, I did find groups on campus that I am so fortunate to be a part of (and are more aligned with my actual skills). And on a positive note, I tried out for club tennis again—accepted.
I feel comfortable in saying that I identify as a Penn student, and I largely attribute this to my “transfer” status. Because I sought the normal Penn student experience, I pushed myself to go out of my comfort zone and try anything and everything.
At graduation, I believe I will be in Franklin Field, looking at the students around me, and feel like I can call them my peers, classmates, friends. Okay, maybe all 2,000 of them is a stretch. But, I still have the rest of the year to make up for the time I lost. If anything, I’ll blame it on the fact that “I’m a transfer.”
