Thoughts on Finishing Freshman Year

I haven’t posted in a while, because life has gotten incredibly hectic. From getting sick, to studying for finals, to losing a floormate and friend to an untimely death, the end of second semester has been rough, to say the least. However, all of the hardship has brought my friends and I even closer. It has also taught me what it means to be a Grinnellian.

When you go to a school like Grinnell, you have a completely different social experience than on a big campus. Within a week or two of getting to campus as a first year student, you’ve probably seen every person on campus at least once. You see everyone, and they see you. If there’s someone you don’t like, you can’t avoid them. Conversely, you are always around the people you love. The closeness of the community forces you to confront both your flaws and the flaws that other people have on a day to day basis.

That said, my friends and I have been through so much together within just one year. Off the top of my head, we have seen each other through the tough academics (more homework than any Ivy League school), rocky relationships, moments of utter despair, feelings of loneliness and homesickness, tornados, the 3rd worst snowstorm the state of Iowa has ever seen, sickness, loss, etc. We have also seen each other through some of the most fun moments of our lives thus far, like the amazing theme parties (80′s, disco, 90′s, frank, mary b. james, winter and spring waltz, 10/10), hours-long conversations that cover absolutely every topic under the sun, and general everyday hanging out. While I was homesick this year, I have realized that I have a family here, too.

Since I’ve been sick, my friends have taken care of me so well. Yesterday, one of them flipped out at me for napping without being fully covered by a blanket. They have been making me tea and oatmeal and anything else I ask for. My professors have also been very concerned about my wellbeing, and have been so understanding about the situation. As my first year here comes to a close, I have nothing but feelings of love and appreciation for my friends and professors. At Grinnell, you can never be just a number, or a body filling a seat in a classroom. People care about you here, whether or not you want them to.

Grinnell is a personification of a specific kind of synecdoche: each student represents the collective Grinnell student body. last Saturday, the Grinnell community was outraged to discover that antigay hate crimes were committed on campus. The next day, students had taken chalk and drawn all over every single available surface, writing messages of love and togetherness that were an inspiration to walk by. While chalk drawings don’t solve the problem, they are an example of the unified spirit of Grinnell College.

Another example of our unity is our response to tragedy. Two days ago, Grinnellians were shocked and saddened to hear about the loss of my friend and floormate Robert from injuries sustained in a pole vaulting accident. Our close knit community banded together to mourn his loss. Most everyone, because of the nature of this small campus, had a Rob connection. At Grinnell, you cannot be anonymous, and Rob’s passing reminded us all of the importance of our Grinnell family. Immediately after hearing the news, I walked across campus to notify some of my friends. Tears in my eyes, I noticed that as I walked, I could see the news traveling. People stood silently, or crying, but everyone was leaning on each other.

 After the first, more informal memorial service, I called my mom to tell her about what had happened. As I got off the phone, I was still crying, and I noticed a student had been watching me. He approached, and asked, “were you a friend of Robert?” I nodded and replied “He lived on my floor…” the student said to me, “I sit in the dhall by the vegan bar at breakfast. I always see you sitting there, too. I’m usually reading in a corner. but I see you there sometimes. Do you want to talk about any of this, or do you want a hug? I went through something similar last year.”

That is the kind of community we have at Grinnell. I might not have spoken to that student before, but regardless, we are both students at Grinnell, and that alone bonds us together. At Grinnell, there is nothing awkward or strange about going up and talking to someone you don’t know. Chances are, you know someone who knows them, dated them, got in a fight with them, had a class with them, or has facebook stalked them enough to give you their basic information. We take “tight-knit” to a whole new level. While that can be maddening sometimes, I am so glad we do.

Last night, I went to the formal memorial service for Rob with one of my best friends in the entire world. I remember looking down at her hand as I held it in my lap. Her darker skin contrasted with my olive skin against the background of my bright pink dress, and as my eyes rested on the image, I realized, THIS is what it’s about. THIS is what matters in life.

We sat beneath the old, wooden beams of Herrick Chapel, on the grounds of a school founded by abolitionists with a Utopian worldview. In that moment, I was so proud to be part of their legacy. In that moment, there was nowhere else in the world I wanted to be. Grinnell is a unified, progressive community of people–with a dash of hippie-ness and plaid to keep us interesting. I am so proud to go to school here.

To my friends, thank you for everything, and I can’t wait for the rest of college with you. I love you, je t’aime, volim te.

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