At Dartmouth, the end of the term waits for no one. I’m already gearing up for the last push of sleepless nights, treks to late night with equally exhausted friends and hours hunched over my laptop, squinting through old glasses because I’ve had enough with contacts. As much as I dread the end-of-term grind, this spring has surprised me with a genuine love for life on campus.
This year, I’ve watched my favorite ’25s approach the finish line with bittersweet emotions, both triumphant and a little mournful for the conclusion of their college chapter. I feel similarly bittersweet as my friends, mentors and crisis-alleviators simultaneously make me proud but leave me to grapple with their absence. In my undergraduate experience, the people have become more prominent fixtures than the campus itself. Not to be dramatic, but seeing them go feels a bit like watching the Earth collapse into a sinkhole on the Green.
At the same time, I’ve grown closer to ’27s, friends who have come into their own far faster than I did. A year ago, I was desperate to leave campus, convinced I could gain perspective anywhere but in Hanover. My impulse was to reject the changes curling around me like vines, feeling that I would betray myself if I embraced the inevitable growth that comes with every new experience.
I’ve since decided that selfhood doesn’t have to be constantly defined and defended. Sometimes, rather than reconciling what-once-was with what-is and what-should-be, the best thing to do is sit on a hill and have a cigarette with your best friend. Like the soft clouds that roll overhead, change plows steadily on, whether you watch it or not.
During my first winter on campus, my “Introduction to Cultural Anthropology” professor explained that college is a liminal space — students constantly negotiate their position in the world, no longer children and not yet adults. Freshly 18, I felt invincible, but I couldn’t even begin to picture who I’d be when I stood in the shoes of the ’23s sitting beside me in lecture. With just two terms until I’m in their positions, I feel oddly serene. By no means do I have it all worked out, but I’ve finally relaxed into the ebbs and flows of campus life, even with all the irregularities of the D-Plan.
This week in Mirror, our writers check in with students in their last weeks of 25S, on campus and abroad. One writer gives her two-cents on Main Street’s best chai latte; the same writer polls students abroad about the highlights of their adventures far from the College on the hill. Finally, two writers weigh in on relationship confusion before break in their column, Freak of the Week.
Happy Week 9, Mirror. I hope spring, as tumultuous as it may have been, has reminded you of the growth that comes with yet another year gone by.
