Senior Scaries: Why does everyone hate winter quarter?
In each installment of “Senior Scaries,” Erin Ye ’26 confronts her senior-year fears in her final three quarters at Stanford. You’ll hear about the triumphs and tribulations of tackling the Senior Bucket List, and hopefully feel less alone in the never-ending soul search that comes with growing up.
It’s a well established fact at Stanford that winter quarter is the worst. Compared to the newness of fall and the sunshine of spring, all that winter brings to mind is a colder walk on the way to a harder set of classes. At best, it’s when you go to Tahoe for a weekend to escape the humdrum of campus. At worst, it’s when you’re stuck in midterm purgatory, fighting off the seasonal depression they told you wouldn’t be a problem in California.
Going into my fourth and final round of hearing, “I can’t wait for spring,” I’ve been determined to reframe my mindset and fight against the figurative (and sometimes literal) rain clouds over my head.
It’s hard to conjure up any images of winter beyond doing homework and getting out of class after sundown. I’ve tried to understand why: is it actually the heavier course load, the lack of big “traditions” on campus and the colder weather? Or is it because I start each year with big resolutions that inevitably fall through by February, which coincides with midterm season and the worst of academic obligations? I think I’ve allowed some combination of these things to justify a negative attitude, which I then use to excuse bad habits and sluggish energy as “winter quarter striking again.”
In some ways, when you strip away the sparkle of Big Game Week and darty season, winter might be the purest reflection of what Stanford is at its core. In the absence of a major “thing” we can center our vibes around, we’re forced to find joy in our academics, our routines and our boring days.
My freshman winter consisted of dorm room pre-games before ENSO, a regrettable appearance at Full Moon on the Quad and many nights spent at LaIR. Sophomore winter, I went skydiving in Santa Cruz and commentated the Pac-12 Women’s Basketball Tournament for KZSU. It’s crazy how much can change during a single college experience; today’s freshmen have never heard of ENSO, will never watch a Pac-12 game. I don’t want to forget these things when I think back on Stanford, even if I’ve outgrown them today.
As a junior, I spent winter quarter hosting frosh RA on-calls and trying very hard not to fail MATH 104, both of which dominate my memories of being very, very sleep-deprived. But that same winter, I also ran a half marathon, camped in Yosemite for the first time and visited my best friend from home when Stanford men’s basketball played at Duke. If I dig a little past being stressed and tired, I can remember laughing and feeling grateful that I was even in a position to be stressed and tired. I’ve never gone a day at Stanford without smiling, which is a testament to “worst” being a relative term.
This winter has once again been a battle between the juggernaut of things competing for my attention. I have a thesis that needs to be written, classes I need to graduate, events I don’t want to miss out on and my own expectations I don’t want to let down. Sometimes I find myself moving through the day on autopilot, not really taking in my surroundings because my brain feels like mush and I know I’ll be too tired to clean my room when I get home. It’s the winter quarter curse: nothing has really gone wrong, but everything combined has become too much.
Still, there’s been joy. Tuesday night book club in the Mars lounge. Reading tarot cards on the floor of Ananya’s bedroom. Tide-pooling in Monterey. A weekend spent skiing at Palisades, another in New Orleans for Mardi Gras. Lower Row Formal. Sunday morning workout classes. And there’s also joy in writing a thesis I chose to write and learning in classes I wanted to take. It’s winter quarter, and it’s flying by, and every day that graduation inches closes is a reminder not to take these moments for granted.
I can honestly say that in the fall, every morning felt like a new opportunity to have the best day ever. During senior year, it’s a special thing to feel like everybody around you has the same sense of urgency to appreciate Stanford to the fullest, and I think that’s why it felt so easy to conjure up energy for fun and spontaneity. I admit that winter quarter has felt considerably less sparkly, but I’m starting to think it’s within my control to change that. When I cast away my own naysaying and remember that time is finite, I realize there’s no reason one has to wait until the spring to feel the sun.
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