When I realized I would not graduate in four years, I felt a somewhat embarrassing sense of failure.  I envisioned how it would be to see my friends graduating on time and moving on to begin exciting new careers while I wasted away in lecture halls regretting that I ever did anything as foolish as changing majors.

   I had a very negative image of people who needed extra time to graduate. I assumed they were lazy or that they were big partiers who didn’t apply themselves to anything but barstools, even though people graduate late for all sorts of reasons, like double-majoring, co-oping and studying abroad.

      Regardless, I got an uncomfortable squirmy feeling when people asked me what year I was. Sometimes I said senior, and then launched into my oddly apologetic description of why I was not graduating in the spring, and sometimes I said I was a junior to avoid the awkwardness I felt about my future as a super-senior. 

      This feeling lasted until winter break when I had a few conversations with some December graduates.  Every new graduate I talked to has no job, few prospects and is heading into one of the toughest job market in a long time. They are much more nervous than they are excited, and a few of them expressed some extreme jealousy when I confessed my soon-to-be super-senior status.

      The conversations got me thinking about  super-seniority in a new way.   I will have more opportunities for getting involved in extra-curricular activities, an extra summer to intern, more time to mature and more time for me to decide what I’d really like to do once I graduate.

      So, to my fellow and future super-seniors, let there be no more shame over prolonged stays.