Coming into sophomore year, I expected to feel a bit of what everyone calls the sophomore slump. But I had no idea what this phrase actually meant. All I knew is that it would hit me hard and fast, a lot like the common cold or stomach flu. I also knew that it would pass, or at least I thought it would — and still think it will.

Now, in my second week of shopping period, the slump has taken over my mind and those of many sophomores around me. I caught it as I shopped my first class and introduced myself to everyone as Jessica, the sophomore. I had unknowingly stepped into the portion of my undergraduate career in which I had to decide on a concentration that would then probably define the rest of my life.  No pressure.

That is when the endless thoughts took over my mind: Am I making the right concentration choice? Does this class count as a requirement? What kind of jobs are going to become available to me? Do I want to go to graduate school? Do I have an unknown passion in a department in which I haven’t taken a class yet? Why am I not in the Program for Liberal Medical Education?

I don’t just hear these questions in my head, I hear them all around me from friends. People are changing from computer science to English, or pre-med to economics. We are all lost and scared, desperately trying to decide what we want to base our undergraduate educations on.

This is the sophomore slump. It is the realization we are not anxiety-free first-years, the fear of failing to discover a fascinating field, the pressure to plan out your life. This is it.

During these long two weeks I’ve been here, I have desperately searched for someone to talk to. I just need someone to help me through what I am supposed to do this year, help me figure out requirements and help me organize my life. My adviser from last year is missing in action, and honestly, I don’t think he could help me much anyways. He is in a different department and wouldn’t be able to answer a few simple questions, let alone talk me through my sophomore year. It’s hard to believe that last year at this time, I was a first-year encouraged to take absolutely anything I wanted. This year is different. This year I have to worry.

With no advising support, I have frantically searched around Brown for someone to talk to. I went to the deans, who are helpful in some areas but completely unhelpful in others. I then went looking into my prospective concentration for those labeled online as “undergraduate advisers,” but found that many were busy or not knowledgeable enough to tell me if my classes this semester fulfilled any of my requirements.

This all happened within the first few days of shopping period. It was not until recently that I met with someone who finally was able to answer every question I had clearly. It was not until two weeks into shopping period, after desperate searching, that I was able to find her.

I am not the only one with an advising problem. I have talked to many students who have the same questions I have and who need guidance. The Open Curriculum — the main reason I came to Brown —  is liberating, but it can also be intimidating. It can engulf you. College in general is overwhelming. It is a place where we are expected to become adults, a place where we are expected to learn what we want to do for the rest of our lives. This is why advising must be effective, especially here.

When I changed my concentration preferences on Advising Sidekick, I should have immediately been matched with a new adviser. Instead, I am forced to remain with the same one because I didn’t become close enough to a professor in my department that I could switch to. When my adviser realized I had not been to his office in months, he should have emailed me. When I started school this semester, someone should have reached out to me. Just because I’m no longer a first-year doesn’t mean I don’t need direction.

Not everyone feels this way. There are people here who know exactly what they want to do and how they are going to do it.  There are also people here with wonderful advisers, ready to tackle any questions they have. And while I do have a vague idea of how to plan my next three years at Brown, it would just be nice to talk it out with someone and received guidance. I know I’ll probably have a great adviser once I declare my concentration, but what am I supposed to do now? I am not saying that I need an adviser to totally depend on. All I’m saying is that sophomore year is a wake-up call, one that I found I was not ready to tackle alone. But it seems that I will have to.

Jessica Montes ’16 is a stressed sophomore thinking about concentrating in everything and can be reached at jessica_montes@brown.edu.