I am a political science and religion double major. The amount of times I’ve said that in introductions is staggering. But beyond a pretty cool flex on all the plebeians who only have one major — let alone, god forbid, no major at all — what is double majoring? As a senior, this fall I am truly figuring that out. 

I sat down with my political science advisor — we’ll call him Ryan, because his name is Ryan — during the second week of Fall Term. After reviewing how little progress I had made over the summer when I had naively committed to getting a headstart, we started cataloging what needed to be done, which was everything. Ryan wrote my schedule in the corner of his whiteboard “for all to see.” My fall into insanity was to be a public one. 

The guard rails for my comps-ing journey were simple: Oct. 4: coding questions and intro; Oct. 11: coding and analysis done; Oct. 18: full backend done; Oct. 25: front end done; Nov. 1: full rough draft due; Nov. 8: revisions; Nov. 15: final paper due. Misleadingly simple, as what amounted to a single bullet point on Ryan’s whiteboard unfurled into hours of work stretched over days. Deadlines were met with ragged breath as I raced to meet them. 

But if I thought one comps was hard, two comps were where things got tricky. Religion comps proposals were due at the start of Week 4, Oct. 7 at noon. This was communicated to me in a lovely, very detailed, very informative email on Sept. 21. It got on my radar, however, on Oct. 4. As I stumbled out of Religion department chair Kristin Bloomer’s office, my ears ringing with the words “due Oct. 7,” I knew it was time to grind. But time was not my friend, as I was coming off a week of illness and heading into a weekend Mock Trial tournament. Oct. 7 came and went. My proposal remained a handful of frantically typed-out sentence fragments. 

It was at this moment that he realized he messed up. 

Eventually, the dust settled. The proposal was submitted. It only took a few years off of my life. But a lesson was learned: do not double comps. Listen to me closely, for I fear you may have heard “double comps-ing is hard” or “double comps-ing can be a little tricky.” No. That is not what I said. I said, “do NOT double comps.” 

Why am I so adamant about avoiding something I myself am doing? Because I have learned a lesson, and I hope those reading my words won’t have to learn it for themselves firsthand. While the shiny title of double majoring may attract you like a moth to the moon, be warned for it is truly a flame that will burn your wings. 

I may seem like a hypocrite. That’s what I thought of the double majors who warned me when I was a wee underclassman. They had their shiny title and they didn’t want anyone else to reach their level. I now recognize that thought for the ignorant notion it was. They weren’t gatekeeping, they were protecting me — or at least, trying to. And so I will continue their legacy. As a double major, I implore you to not double major. It isn’t a flex to make a poor decision. 

I’ve learned that double majoring can easily be replaced with majoring in one field and taking all the classes you want in another field to your heart’s content. Ask yourself, and be brutally honest: Do I want to double comps, or do I just want to say that I’ve double majored? If it is the latter, let me tell you it’s a lot less exciting to be saying, “I’m a double major” in your introductions come senior year when you’re faced with making that decision a reality. Those extra few syllables in your introduction come at a steep price. 

While I know I will find my double comps fulfilling, and I couldn’t imagine choosing one of my majors over the other, I’ve had to make sacrifices. I couldn’t go on an OCS program in order to complete my second major requirements. I can’t take the art classes I would like to take as my schedule is filled to bursting with classes required for my second major. Make sure you have a better reason than, “I want to sound cool,” to make those sacrifices.