They say the third time’s the charm, but after three years of college, it seems like my luck hasn’t run out. Living as a junior in an all frosh dorm means that my junior year experience tasted a lot like my frosh experience, but with more friends and more experience: I’ve tucked away what ever ounces of wisdom I’ve accrued over the past few years, from each mistake and feeling of loneliness and failed exam, as well as each moment of honest vulnerability and laughter and eight-counts of swing.
To have a place to call home, a soft little place you can land, made the stacks of homework and hours of studying bearable. Everyday I knew I could come home to one hundred brilliant young minds itching to share their thoughts and experiences with the world, and as they kindled each spark of curiosity and dove deeper into what it means to be them in their most honest and unabashed form, I felt as if each evening, when I would come home, I was welcomed into a world of crazy excitement and even crazier firsts: first college class, first failed exam, first night out, first real, truly vulnerable conversation. I got to see the rapid expansion of their horizons and the range of possibilities they could be and wanted to be and already were.
I know for a fact that I made messed up a lot. I wish I was more present in the dorm. I wish I had more time for chill hangouts in my room, or tea nights or more fireside chats or s’mores nights or stargazing at Lake Lag or Mean Girls and Mocktails or those intimate one-on-one conversations I had my frosh year and still treasure. But at the end of the day, seeing the community that Twain has built and the net of 100 residents holding each other up and catching each other each time someone falls (emotionally, and even physically off a table), means so much more than being the staff member I had envisioned. Knowing that I was part of that community and maybe even helped shape it lays the foundation for lasting friendships and years of perseverance, strength, love, and hope at their feet.
As I transition into my final year of undergrad, the bittersweet taste of coulds and couldn’ts, should and shouldn’ts still linger in my mouth, and I don’t expect it to leave anytime soon. Although having 100 new people in my life as friends, peers, and family make the taste just a little more sweet.
I’ll always be around to love, support, and encourage you when it feels like the world is spinning too fast, you just want to chat, or you want to come with me on a weekend adventure; I’m here to listen and care and refill your printer paper.
Faith, love, and chicken tender Twain,
DLP