I’m not really sure when it became summer. But somewhere in between the mountains of snow and the 90 degrees and sunny weather was this thing called “spring semester.”
At the moment, I feel a bit disoriented calling myself a “rising sophomore.” Wasn’t I just a “rising high school senior”? Better yet, I still remember the day that I was a “rising third grader.” And then, like almost every other story involving a time machine, I blinked.
New Haven itself is a pretty cool time machine. At one moment, I am standing in the middle of a Gothic castle, surrounded by flying buttresses and spaces that look like they have been pulled out of my history textbook. A ten-minute walk up to Science Hill, and I am in a modern nirvana of laboratories and space-age classrooms. I’m accompanied on this journey by brilliant professors who challenge me to expand my rationale behind each and every thought. I’m also joined by friends who care about my wellbeing and accompany me on every step of my voyage through college life.
Then, the time machine spits me out. Vanderbilt Hall (my freshman residence hall) is empty, and I’m staring at a room with nothing more than two beds, two desks, a closet, and a lot of boxes. It’s move out day, and I want to just unpack all of my stuff, meet my roommate, and do it all again. It’s like I’ve gone back in time, about to start the year anew, and yet it’s over. Yale has worked its magic, yet again.
On the bright side, I have three more years of exploration. In that time, I will to continue to challenge myself, learn what it means to be a member of this interconnected society, and discover the world that surrounds me. I’ll meet you on the flip side, Yale!
