Stop Abroad Shaming
A few nights ago I was out to dinner, enjoying my last few nights of Italian cuisine before I headed back stateside. As I’m leaving, I see I’ve been tagged in a post by Testing Newsdays, an account I’ve followed and supported since its initiation a few months ago. Thinking it would be some kind of excited anticipation of my return, I was shocked and dismayed to find a backhanded, sarcastic article throwing unwarranted barbs at kids who are apparently posting too many instagrams for the author’s liking. whatever.
I wanted to take this moment to respond to these remarks, to once and for all put a foot down and speak for all of us returning from abroad next semester…
Stop. Abroad. Shaming.
I get it. I do, ok? I’ve been there, I’ve spent my fair share of time trying to decide whether I should walk outside in the negative sixteen degree weather to get lectured for an hour and fifteen minutes of my life about something that I will not retain or absorb whatsoever. I’ve been there on a Saturday night when there’s an absolute cracker of a party at *insert name of past party house here, in case one of you pi phis reading this is a DPS informant looking for party information* and it gets shut down within twenty eight seconds because some freshman club soccer beast blew a juul cloud in the fire alarm and now there’s kappas running everywhere looking like goddamn orange creamsicles melting in the water spray.
I know that it sucks to be in the dirty Lisle looking at all the snapchats and instagrams of everyone doing cool shit abroad - I went through it all last year. But you know what? It’s not my fucking fault. It’s not my fault I went to Europe, was I supposed to wait patiently outside Alibis sucking my thumb and reading dusty Dickinson Today newsletters until my twenty-first birthday just to appease my dear elders? I think not.
You can’t blame us for going abroad - most of you did, too, and everyone fucking should; if you wanted to stay at Dickinson that bad, power to you, but I didn’t. Loser. I’m in Europe, I’m doing cool shit, and you’re going to see it on my instagram. If you don’t like it, unfollow me, block me, mute my posts. I don’t shape my personal social media to the requests and preferences of domestic peasants. And in fact based on the swarm of followers I gained over the last 4 months the majority of people thought my European insta presence was invaluable.
I had to see you guys cocks out on a fucking boat in France while I cleaned yack off my bathroom floor at 9am from the last night’s endeavors: I saw that “Tommy Abroad” instagram account that was basically just another way of letting everyone know that you all were, in fact, abroad: I waited patiently for you all to get back, to tell me how sick it was and how much I’d love Bologna, and then what do I get for my loyalty? Stabbed in the fucking back. Right in the back.
Let people talk about abroad. It’s a once in a lifetime fucking experience and we SHOULD talk about it, we SHOULD post pictures about it. Not all of us can just drop off the face of the Earth and keep our abroad experiences completely to ourselves like a John Falvey. some of us would like to show our friends and family all the cool shit we are doing while we’re spending four months away from them. Give me a fucking break.
Side note, I don’t know how the logistics of Testing Newsdays work, but I’ll call in freedom of press here and request this one not be anonymous. This is *Testing Newsdays has Removed the Name of the Contributor to Protect Their Wellbeing* and if any of you simpletons haven’t gotten that yet, and if you have an issue with me posting instagrams, and you are under the height of 6’1” and not unreasonably muscular or experiencing violent inclinations, you know where I live.