When I was younger, adulthood seemed like a millennium away. Most adults scared me and I didn't understand them. They were serious, they were powerful. They told me not to do things that I wanted to do. I definitely didn't want to grow up and be one; well, maybe, so that I could drive a car. That's it.
Now I'm technically considered an adult. I really don't feel that much different than when I was younger, except that I actually make and owe money. For an introduction in a class this week, we had to get together with a partner and ask each other a survey. One question was, "When did you know you were an adult?"
I was dumbfounded. I had no idea, am I an adult? In my mind, there wasn't a defining moment for me, I just kept getting older. What is being an adult, anyway?
Today, as I logged on to check Twitter, I noticed a lady that I follow was being plagiarized. She is a well-known blogger and someone was copying bits and pieces of her work. This isn't the first time this has happened to her and it's definitely not new with famous bloggers. Back in April, it happened to cjane, who's blog I read quite frequently. (She talks about it here.) I, along with so many others, was outraged by the complete lack of honesty and the--how do I put it--nerviness of it all. Really, that's nervy.
But it gets worse. Last semester, I was talking the hardest class of my major. It was finals, and I had studied nonstop for this certain final for four days (over a weekend, mind you). Needless to say, I was on the edge. Literally. My grade was teeter-tottering between passing and not, and I knew that if I did well I could pass the class. Between questions, I looked up, trying to figure out the answer. The guy in front of me was looking at his neighbor's test.
I felt a surge of adrenaline. This guy was cheating. Okay, I thought. Maybe if he needs just one answer I'll let it go. So I answered a few more questions and looked up. He was still looking.
Have you ever had the feeling where you know you need to do something, but you don't want to? In the back of my mind voices began to whisper that if I told on him, I would sound like a tattletale. I felt like I was back in elementary school again. I didn't want to be the snitch and I didn't want to be put in this position. Would my professor be suspicious of me?
My thoughts raced, Wait a minute, this isn't fair! Everyone else in this class has studied so hard all semester, and here he was getting a free ride. I have to--do I? Do I? Should I tell the professor now? I waited until almost everyone was gone, walked up and handed my test in. Then I left.
Something stopped me in the hall. I couldn't keep going and let this guy get away with it. So I turned around and walked back into the classroom.
"Professor, I feel like I should tell you that someone was cheating on the test," I stammered. I was more nervous than ever. The look on her face made me squirm, almost like someone had died.
"Do you know for sure?"
"I think so. He kept looking on his neighbor's test." She asked if I knew who it was and I told her. She sincerely thanked me and promised to look into it. I never heard what happened with him.
Sometimes I wonder if there is ever such a thing as being an adult. The adults that I knew growing up certainly didn't cheat or plagiarize. Are we naïve to think that once someone is an adult, they'll act like one?
A common reaction to these stories has been, "What, are these people back in elementary school again?" I know that there are plenty of children who don't cheat. But there are a few who do and really learn their lesson. So why are people still doing it? Is our fear of failure that extreme? Probably.
Perhaps being an adult isn't something that comes with getting older, but rather with growing morals. Maybe the question on the survey should be, "When did you learn to be an adult?"
I'm afraid some people won't know the answer.
