For the first time in my life, the pinging of my phone and the lighting of its blue-light screen was daunting. Like those slapstick cartoons, the horrid device binged and I recoiled at the sight. Not a normal reaction for a Gen Z teen.
The problem stemmed from a single app: Instagram. In the new age, choosing college roommates or finding friends before the beginning of the fall term is all through a social media platform. Through introductory paragraphs of “hi!!”s and “I love [blank]ing, [blank] with friends, and [blank] in my free time”s, the incoming freshmen of public and private universities around the United States post themselves with their favorite photos of themselves.
These “Meet Your Class of 2027” Instagram accounts gain followers, and so people begin submitting photos and descriptions en masse, hoping to be next in line. For context, for the University of Michigan page, I submitted mine just to be told I was 424th in line and would have to wait three weeks until mine would be posted.
On the surface, there don’t seem to be many negatives. As a survivor of the “Meet Your Class of 2027” posts, I can assure you otherwise.
Every word felt like a new way someone scrolling through could judge me. I switched out my love for Drake vs. Lana Del Rey probably seven times before just giving up and adding both. It felt like I was selling myself; here’s a bright and shiny roommate runner-up who loves boba and can go to the gym with you! The idea in and of itself is very squirmish. It’s like every post had a “these are very cool things…I hope you like me” between the lines.
The next step in the “Meet Your Class of 2027” process is accepting requests and direct messaging one another. You dm people without end; it’s like speed dating except the success rate is even lower and you get ghosted more than half the time. At this point, my responses to “What’s ur major?” “Are you rushing?” and “Do you like north campus or central?” were regurgitations of the same conversations I’ve had with multiple other people before.
I remember a funny anecdote from a post-midnight FaceTime call with my friends. My friend and “Nora” had been dming for over a week, exchanging song requests and planning college nights out and whatnot, when Nora suddenly started complaining about how so many people had ghosted her by just asking for her Snapchat and then not replying ever again. My friend, being the kind soul she is, wholeheartedly agreed, trying to find a sense of common ground. Then, without shame or hesitation, Nora asked for my friend’s Snapchat handle and ghosted her. We haven’t heard back from Nora for a while now, and I doubt we ever will.
But from all the rubble and mess, there really is hope. A few weeks ago, my current roommate Sophia messaged me! Since then, it’s been smooth sailing; we’re like a happy couple on our college-daydreaming honeymoon. GO BLUE!
Image by Jane Kim/The ECHO
