Hark Upon the Gale (and the people in it)

Transitioning back into the academic term has been a surprisingly bumpy road. I severely underestimated both how exhausted I would be from weeks of traveling and how much work (academic and miscellaneous) I needed to do for the first week. Place a sleepy, unmotivated student in the midst of an incoming wave of obligations, and usually the desire to remain dormant prevails. Sensing the end of my time at Oxford in the distant horizon is also giving me a peculiar feeling, one that changes from shock to excitement to sadness in a matter of seconds.

To top it all off, the academic year at my home institution, William & Mary, is wrapping up. I’ve barely started tutorials here, and my friends back home are cramming for finals, packing up their rooms, spending the last of their flex dollars, and anticipating their summer plans. If time has ever been a mind-bending phenomenon during my study abroad experience, it has never been more so now. As each day in the spring semester passed by, as the unforgiving winters melted into humid, equally unforgiving summers, my nostalgia for Williamsburg intensified in ways I did not expect. I realized I did not paint it in the best light around three months ago in "The Art of the Study Habit," so with a week left until seniors graduate (*tear*), I thought I’d take the time to mention that while the unhealthy stress culture is indeed existent and persistent, The College of William & Mary is much more than that.

My earliest impression of W&M was 100% something related to its academic reputation. I heard words like “Public Ivy,” “national rankings,” and “Thomas Jefferson” tossed around that projected onto me an intimidating, even stuffy image of the university. The first time I visited was actually with my sister when she was embarking on her own college tours. While she decidedly did not like it, I was enchanted. It was a balmy, sunny day, so the Sunken Gardens were in pristine shape and populated with lounging students and frisbee teams. The Wren Building looked just like it did in all the ads, except students were walking in and out of it like it was no big deal--and as I've learned in England, Sir Christopher Wren is a pretty big deal. Maybe it’s partly because I'm what you’d call a “big fan” of the American Revolution (hi, Hamilton), but I absolutely loved the idea of going to school in a town as historic and well-preserved as this. I remember walking around the campus with our tour group thinking, “Now this is a place I’d like to call home.”

The Sunky G's, unusually empty

Ultimately, though, what makes W&M home to me is not the historic buildings or dangerously unstable brick pathways, but the people (this post is taking a turn for the tour guide/@lifeatwm, sorry not sorry). Williamsburg itself is not a big place, so the campus of William & Mary is pretty tightly-packed too. Chances are when you pass someone by, you either a) know them, b) had a class with them, or c) know someone else who knows them. My biggest concern before going to university was meeting new people; in the preceding months of uncertainty, it was difficult to imagine myself becoming friends with a whole new set of people. To me, they were faceless, unknowable strangers. All those fears were dashed literally the very first day I got there (thanks, orientation!), and when you start from the bottom, you can only go uphill from there. Now, three years later and in denial of the incoming senior year, I can’t help but look back at nervous, pre-college me with a certain fondness. If I could, strangely enough, I would not change a single thing about that stage in my life. For one, that Katherine (and pre-study abroad Katherine, whoops) has taught me that I am never alone in my misgivings and fears about the future. But it is also one of the most prominent ways I can benchmark my personal growth. Reflect for a moment on your own monumental transitions, when you were on the brink of forging new relationships while maybe leaving some behind. The people who come in and out of your life can shape who you are in the subtlest of ways; but from what I’ve noticed, it’s usually the ones who actively help you grow and improve that end up sticking around. 

If I had to sum up the community in one word, it would be “camaraderie.” I say this because while the atmosphere on campus is not always positive, nor always high-stress, the campus always seems to move as one. There’s the unmistakable excited energy during the first week back at school or LDOC (more professionally known as Blowout), or the hushed and weary tones during exam seasons. It can be as small as passing by an enthusiastic cluster of people around a bake sale, or an even more enthusiastic cluster of people when the dining hall food is decent for the day. There are times when my mood for the day is quite honestly determined by the mood of the campus itself—and if that’s not what it means to truly belong to someplace, then I don’t know what is. 

Does this post look like a promotional article for William & Mary yet?

I had no idea I would miss William & Mary this much, but I do. I miss walking into Swem, assailed by the scent of coffee beans and pastries from Swemromas. I miss the hill going down from Sadler to the Crim Dell (walking DOWN it, mind you). I miss walking into the Rec and staring awkwardly ahead on the elliptical, trying to look like I’m fit but not trying too hard. I miss the harrowing journey across Confusion Corner and into CW, where happy families and sweet senior citizens never fail to cross my path. I miss running into my friends on campus, doing anything from the good ol’ American head nod (you know what I’m talking about) to making shamelessly silly faces in greeting. But as the Snapchat stories and Facebook posts turn into sunny days on the beach and internship updates, I can't ignore the glimmer of anticipation and excitement within me; I'll go from tripping on the bricks in Oxford to tripping on the bricks in Williamsburg in no time.

And now, as my William & Mary ID lies untouched under my Oxford ID and Circuit Laundry Card, I cannot wait for the day when I can take it out again to swipe into a dining hall—probably Sadler, before the lunch rush hour.