Alex, your future is as bright as your smile.

Can’t get enough of Bwog’s Senior Wisdoms? Good news: we’re just getting started. Here with his tips to best enjoy your Columbia experience is our next senior, Alex Swanson. 

Name, School, Major, Hometown: Alex Swanson—or Alexan der Swanson according to Columbia, CC’ 18, Classics, London

Claim to fame: I dispense terrible advice and incompetently-run organizations when the need arises. They also call me Tigerman.

Where are you going? Eternal and ongoing education, temporarily based next year in the U.K., since my job prospects are dimmer than a February sunset over a frosted Hudson. It’s as Abelard obscurely said: there is always salvation in unnecessarily niche academia.

What are 3 things you learned at Columbia and would like to share with the Class of 2022?

1. It’s very easy to drift out of friendships so make an effort to stay in touch! I have not been as active as I wish I had been in maintaining friendships with those I’ve enjoyed spending time and conversing with over the years. I very much regret not staying close to friends who I’ve met in the odd class or two. Nothing’s more depressing for the human soul than the awkward drive-by “hey” done at just the right moment with someone you used to be close to and really got on with. I endure too many of those moments.

2. Don’t develop an addiction taste for coffee. Oh, the time and money wasted on the Devil’s Elixir over my four years—it pains me. Don’t let the media fool you: alcohol ain’t the real danger, kids; it’s caffeine!

3. There’s no point studying for 20 hours a day if you aren’t being productive. If it’s 4AM in Butler and your pace of work has grinded to a slow and dejected trudge, you’re better off calling it a night and starting “fresh” in the morning. If you aren’t working efficiently, go outside, take a break. Take the night off if you have to. Perhaps it’s a fool’s tactic, but I’ve found that it’s really helped me not get dragged down in the middle of rough patches.

“Back in my day…” Oh boy. Well, first I obviously have to shoutout Cannon’s—as does every other senior that has the audacity to fill out one of these “wisdoms.” Then there was YikYak, Deluxe, Bernie’s, NSOP 2K14—I don’t know how the Intrepid party was allowed—O.T. Genesis’ Coco on repeat, unrenovated floors everywhere and Ovid on the LitHum syllabus. It was a simpler time, a time since gilded with the karats of the memorializing mind, where all was light and ebullient, nebulous and naive. It was also a lot fucking colder.

Justify your existence in 30 words or fewer: I can waffle with the best of them, do 4th grade math at a 3rd grade level, wield a sword fairly well, read Greek, and cannot grow facial hair.

What was your favorite class at Columbia? I’ve had many favorite classes, most of which are in the Classics and History departments, but for my absolute favorite I’d probably say “Mediterranean Trade and Exchange 900-1400.” It was taught by a visiting scholar, Professor Ecker, and so I’m not sure when it will next be offered, but it was a wonderful seminar that explored the transmission of material culture across continents, from ivory to gemstones, textiles to ancient marble. That combined with multiple backstage visits to the Met, the American Numismatic Society, the Cooper Hewitt and others made the class a real winner for me. Also shoutout to Professor Buonanno’s unparalleled arthum section—though he may have moved on from Columbia..

Would you rather give up oral sex or cheese? It all depends on the acidity of the aftertaste.

Whom would you like to thank? I’ll take this one seriously. My sister, primarily, who has advised me and steered me out of trouble for as long as I can remember. Also, the host of wonderful and spectacular professors who have taught me so very patiently and enthusiastically, who helped me to develop my interests in niche academia over the years.

One thing to do before graduating: Have a whimsical night on campus late—very late—where you listen back to the chirping of the sparrows and the dim chatting of the occasional students strolling by on their way back from Butler. I have primarily associated campus with the bustle of undergraduate New York life during my time. Seeing it at its most intimate and slow-paced in the dead of the night really recolors the majesty of our home here in Morningside Heights and makes you appreciate what a lovely environment we’re privileged to live in over our four short years. Maybe I’m just sappy.

Any regrets? There is one thing I regret deeply, and am ashamed to mention it, but mention it I must if I am to be redeemed. When I was a sophomore, there was a pear tree near our vineyard, laden with fruit, tempting neither for colour nor taste. To shake and rob this, some lewd young fellows of us went, late one night (having according to our pestilent custom prolonged our sports in the streets till then), and took huge loads, not for our eating, but to fling to the very hogs, having only tasted them. And this, but to do what we liked only, because it was misliked. Behold my heart, O God, behold my heart, which Thou hadst pity upon in the bottom of the bottomless pit. Now, behold, let my heart tell Thee what it sought there, that I should be gratuitously evil, having no temptation to ill, but the ill itself. It was foul, and I loved it; I loved to perish, I loved mine own fault, not that for which I was faulty, but my fault itself. Foul soul, falling from Thy firmament to utter destruction; not seeking aught through the shame, but the shame itself!

Image via Alex Swanson