Quasi-adulthood

One of my closest friends turned 21 last Saturday and as expected, we had an absolute ball. As one of our first friends to become legal—we decided to go all out. We blew up balloons, broke out the streamers, silly string and glow sticks—basically whatever Party City had in stock. After a classy dinner, obnoxious belting of “Happy Birthday” and of course, Shooters, I’d say it was a pretty successful birthday celebration. Later, when I was going through our polaroid photos the next day, I remembered how our dinner conversation was all about turning 21 and how incredibly old that seemed. I’ve been thinking about it since and I wonder, why is 21 such a big deal?

The answer is partially obvious: 21 marks the age you can finally order and purchase alcohol legally. Interestingly, the 21-year-old drinking age has been the subject of some controversy. People are quick to point out that at 18, you become a legal adult who can carry a weapon, serve in our nation’s military, vote and get married. However, gaining the right to vote doesn’t mean you can have that Corona Light.

According to the Center for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC), the National Minimum Drinking Age Act of 1984 essentially set the national drinking age to 21 years old. States that have implemented the law have seen a 16 percent median decline in motor vehicle crashes, which suggests that the law may have had the intended effect. Somehow, this arbitrary rule about the legal age one can purchase alcohol has also suddenly become a cultural landmark. 21 is now the age we reconcile with real adulthood, true freedom and yes, that glass of wine.

What is true adulthood, though? Even after turning 21, I’ll still rely on my parents to go home to during breaks and for emotional and financial support, especially while I am a student. While everyone’s situation is different, I’d dare to venture that for many Duke students turning 21, while an exciting landmark, doesn’t functionally change all that much of our lives. Instead, 21 epitomizes this stage of quasi-adulthood that we seem to find ourselves. It’s a time in our life where we still have the support of the university, live with our friends, and have a bit of free reign to explore what we are passionate about with structured coursework and on-campus learning opportunities.

In fact, the other day when someone mentioned to me arrangements for living on-campus which involves paying rent, utilities, Wi-Fi, signing a lease and arranging for furniture, I found myself rather stunned. I couldn’t help but to feel that all of those things were simply too “grown-up” and that I was more quasi-adult than actual adult. Somehow the idea paying rent and doing groceries felt like putting my quasi-adulthood in jeopardy.

Like I said, we’re all in different situations in terms of our independence and our track on the learning curve that is apparently adulthood. I’ve learned that there is no clear cut line, or age at which I will ever truly believe that I am a “real” adult, whatever that means to you. Even after turning 21, most college students live in the limbo-state of adulthood. In fact, college is basically a prolonged state of transition where you learn to live by yourself, but not completely by yourself. You get to nestle into a vibrant ecosystem with others who are in the exact same stage of life. Of course, you’ll still plan and think about your future (e.g. by attending information sessions), whether that is graduate school, travel or getting a job.

So if you can’t wait to live off campus and cook for yourself or if you yearn for the days when you were a wide-eyed freshman wearing a lanyard, then just stop, breathe and soak in quasi-adulthood. It’s not all that bad.

Shruti Rao is a Trinity junior. Her column, “taming of the shru,” runs on alternate Wednesdays.