I have a confession. Last week, without putting much thought into my decision, I applied as a transfer student to The Ohio State University. I didn’t tell anyone — save my mother, who cosigns my loans — about my decision, I just went and did it.

I had my transcripts FedExed overnight and sent in my $40 application fee. I looked into dorms available to me and I inquired about transferring to the Target store in Columbus.

Why?

I’ll never know.

Honestly, I thought that moving away from home and going to a school in a big city would change everything. That I wouldn’t change my major again. That I would have hundreds — if not tens — of friends and I would go out partying instead of spending my Saturday nights in my dorm watching the Discovery Channel.

For a week I sat at home, pining over the OSU Web site, waiting for my application’s status to be updated.

It took a quick slap in the face from someone I knew to make me realize that my home was here at Kent State. College wasn’t going to be any different for me somewhere else. In fact, I would be giving up many great opportunities for a chance at a social life.

So I looked into my major and realized I only had a handful of classes left to take, and I could continue being involved in the student media organizations, which wouldn’t be a possibility at a campus that houses a billion students. (There aren’t really a billion students; I use hyperbole here to demonstrate the fact that OSU has too many students for non-majors to be involved in student media.)

College isn’t an idea or an abstract thought. A college isn’t here to make you comfortable or provide you with a social life. It’s a place of learning.

I’m willing to trade a bit of happiness for a chance to be happy the rest of my life doing what I want.

Steve Schirra is a junior English major and the forum editor of the Summer Kent Stater. Contact him at [email protected].