As a kid, I never stopped moving. My mom once told me that she knew that if the house was silent, it was only because I was up to something, and it was usually no good. Whether going through kitchen cabinets or bathroom drawers or collecting flowers or ladybugs from the garden, I never stopped for a breather. And that’s what college has been like.
There are nights spent roller skating, climbing up endless flights of stairs, or stargazing on rooftops. Days spent running around campus (figuratively, only true freshmen run on campus, not second year freshmen), studying in niches in Gateway, or studiously attending lectures. Evenings are for playing piano, long calls home, swimming, or new adventures. Sunrises are spent awake from the night before, studying for the day’s exams, furiously typing on my laptop to catch another idea, or simply planning out my day. I’ve had so many moments this past semester that have been such core memories that I have wanted to put them into bottles to relive them down the line. And in all of this busyness, life has felt nothing short of vibrant, even in the best and worst of times.
It’s no question that I’ve grown a significant amount in these past two years. If you sat down any given person and asked if they grew up by some amount between ages eighteen to twenty, I’m sure the answer would be a resounding yes. And yes! I am twenty now, as the lovely box in last week’s edition noted. But it’s not only the age that signifies me being older now — I feel so much older. The other day I was automatically given the senior discount at the grocery store, which I graciously accepted. I found myself logging into FaceBook unironically and posting minion memes the second I turned twenty. And, worst of all, I started having terrible back pains, which could also be attributed to my carrying the Design 4 team through the semester. Needless to say, it’s evident that this new decade is the beginning of an era, but the terrible sense of humor has certainly stayed.
With the starting of a new chapter comes the ending of old ones, and it’s with a good mixture of reluctance and relief that I say this is my last time writing for Second Year Freshman. In order to prepare for this moment, I went back to reread some of my first articles, back when I had first arrived in Hoboken and couldn’t put a name to a picture of a single building on campus. Quite frankly, rereading those articles has almost been like opening up those bottled memories and getting to relive those days. Back when I didn’t know a single person in this town. When I would walk 3.2 miles roundtrip to swim in Union City. When I discovered coffee. When I learned that rain meant bathtubs of water, not light sprinkling. And when I learned that I could do it all here, so long as I was organized.
I can’t help it, as much as writing this column has been a royal pain most Sunday nights, I’m going to miss it greatly. It’s been an outlet, something that requires me to sit down and take a moment to rest while I type away. But like I said, with the starting of a new chapter comes the ending of old ones, and it’s been real SYF.
Second-Year Freshman is an Opinion column used to explore the unique experiences of Sophomore students who studied remotely their freshman year during the coronavirus pandemic, and are now experiencing campus life for the first time during the 2021-2022 academic year.
Be First to Comment