As a freshman, I don’t think I’m exactly the most qualified person to be writing about Halloween celebrations in college, yet here I am. In a world where Halloween has become a glorified and highly anticipated holiday, especially at colleges across the country, outwardly admitting that I don’t really enjoy it seems close to a crime. I mean, what’s not to like? It gives us a reason to put on ridiculous costumes and party with our friends without being judged for it, which sounds like a dream for stressed students who are constantly searching for a break from their midterm exams and busy schedules. However, I think we’ve reached a point where Halloween has fallen victim to becoming another overhyped celebration in college culture. 

At Fordham, there is no shortage of nightlife on and around campus throughout the academic year. Maybe this nightlife is not as prominent compared to larger schools’ campus life, but it’s definitely there for those who are looking for a night out. From the staple bars on Arthur Avenue like Barnyard and Mugz to the off-campus athletic houses, there always seems to be some event or party happening on any given weekend. 

This nightlife presence makes me wonder: If we already go out and party every normal weekend, what really makes “Halloweekend” different? I believe a large part of the hype around this coveted time of year is the anticipation factor. A prime example of this is the friend groups who start planning their individual costumes or group themes during the first week of classes — no, that’s not an exaggeration. In my opinion, more often than not students spend too much time and money getting ready for those “special” one or two nights.

Oddly enough, Halloween at Fordham is an almost week-long commitment for some students. A noticeable number of students started going out as early as Wednesday and wrapped up their celebrations on Monday. I honestly admire them for their dedication because I, for one, could not last that many nights out in a row. 

Still, spending upwards of $50 on a costume or outfit that you’ll wear for no more than two or three hours and never wear again is frankly a bit pointless and even wasteful. But I don’t think these students submit to these party traditions for themselves; they may be doing it for their social media accounts instead. 

Lately, more than anything, Halloween has turned into a competition for who has the best costume, which leads to the best Instagram post in an effort to prove who is having the best time. Or rather, who seems to be having the best time. 

One thing I’ve noticed during my short time here is that people like to appear as if they’re having the time of their lives, even when they’re not. I have seen people spend more time attempting to get the perfect pictures for their feed or glued to their phone than actually living in the moment, as predictable as it sounds. To some extent, it feels like they’re prioritizing the opportunity to impress their followers or friends more than the chance to actually enjoy themselves. 

I admit that I’m guilty of having done this myself in several situations. In today’s world, where everyone has instant access to each other’s personal lives, it is easy to believe that everyone is taking full advantage of the “best four years of our lives” — and it is also easy to want validation that we are doing the same. This standard is a lot to live up to and can create FOMO (fear of missing out) for many of us. 

During the first few months of college, I felt an obligation to go out and party because I didn’t want to miss out on the “real” college experience. I am slowly beginning to realize that I don’t have to go out every weekend in order to validate my own college experience. 

Don’t get me wrong, I like being able to put the stresses of my academics aside, spend time with friends and meet new people. Typical Halloween celebrations in college, however, perpetuate the belief that we constantly need to be filling our time with what others define as the most “fun” activity. Let’s start prioritizing a balance for ourselves and our unique interests instead of blindly heading down the most popular route.

Luis Roldan, GSB ’26, is undeclared from Winter Park, Fl.