Letting Go of What You Know

Illustration by Sara Elands / VOX Staff

By Sara Elands / VOX Staff

My eyes whipped open at 6:30 a.m. before my alarm even had a chance to go off. I had an uneasy feeling in my stomach. Images of new people I would meet flooded my mind with waves of uncertainty and curiosity. The morning went slowly as my mom and I finished getting ready and packed the car. The 40-mile drive down GA 400 seemed to take years as we passed familiar lines of trees that I knew I wouldn’t see for a while. My dad came from his house and met us at Georgia State University to help get me settled at my new school.

As my parents and I carried boxes of my most vital possessions into my dorm room, I looked around for a familiar face among the students moving in. I didn’t find many. In fact, all I saw were strangers — even the girls who were going to be my roommates — who didn’t look as old or as mature as I expected them to be. But at least they looked like they belonged there. I felt lost as my eager anticipation for this moment was replaced with a growing uneasiness. After 18 years of waiting to be free and on my own, I never would have thought I would be crying my first night at college.

Ashley had a tattoo on her wrist, and I could tell she was into hard rock music. Meanwhile, Shea was very talkative and shared stories of her and Ashley’s years of friendship. It was intimidating, and I could tell Jamilah and I felt a little lost. We all discussed where we were from, if we had boyfriends, and how much we still had to pack. I was used to living with people I didn’t know well after 10 years of attending and working at summer camp, but I could tell the other girls were a little more nervous about it. They kept asking questions about our “rules of the house” and who would be bringing what.

I ran into my roommates at the dorm check-in station. We had all managed to show up at the same time. Lines of students waited for a key and an access card to get into our building. I asked the other girls if they wanted to go out to lunch with me and my family, but they already had plans.

Sweat rolled down my Dad’s forehead as he lugged in my last box. There was tension and excitement in the air as my divorced parents tried not to show their discomfort with helping me move in. It was supposed to be an exciting day, and I wasn’t going to let anything bring me down. My mom started a conversation with the mother of one of one of my roommates as they both tried their best to stock our kitchen with our few pots and pans, plastic cups and mismatched dishes.

Before I had moved in, I had pictured my roommates going to the store and watching movies together the first night, and that we would bond right away. However, they all had plans to go home for the first night and come back the next day. I was devastated. I was going to be left by myself.

My dad said goodbye after my parents and I had lunch at a local pizza place. My mom was the last one left, my last comfort. I stalled to prevent her from leaving. I asked her to go with me to the grocery store and Target. She gave into my requests willingly, but I don’t think she knew what I was really feeling. When we got back and put everything away, it was time for me to face the fact that, for one of the first times in my life, I was going to be all alone in a place I didn’t know. My mom and I went down eight floors on the elevator, and I walked her to her car. We stood in the warm August air before we both started crying torrents. I hugged her tighter than I ever had before. Eventually, she pulled away and got into her car.

Ice Cream Saves the Day
Heading up to my lonely room, I saw a sign for an ice cream social outside. Thinking back to events like this in high school, I thought nobody in their right minds would be going to something so lame. But without any options, I decided to check it out for five minutes then leave. When I got there, I was surprised to find about 50 students standing around awkwardly. Boys had their hands shoved in their pockets, and girls were twirling their hair. I was nervous at first to talk to anyone, but I watched a few brave people dive into conversations and I followed their lead.

At that point, I realized that everybody was in the same rocking boat. Everybody felt ridiculously awkward, out of their element. Nobody knew each other and nobody had a safety net. I realized that I could create any personality for myself instantly. That night I was a socialite. I was a busy queen bee making my way from group to group introducing myself simply as an art major from the eighth floor. It sounds silly and stupid, but it worked.

That first night I made friends I have kept throughout the semester. Some of the people I met drifted away, and some people found new friends. But that night, at the “lame” ice cream social, I learned a very important lesson, and that was never to shy away from meeting new people.

Like Starting Over
The next day, my first college class started at 8 a.m. It was not what I expected at all. There were people there who were 10 years older than me. But it turned out to be pretty cool having such a diverse group of classmates. I arrived early and sat in the hall with a girl who was married and from Russia. It was her first day, too. She told me she had gotten lost on MARTA, and I confessed I didn’t know where any of my classes were. It was a strange new world, but at least I wasn’t alone.

When I had signed up over the summer, I was put into classes I didn’t want to take just to fill out my schedule. These classes were a set of broad identity courses such as “Women’s Studies” and “Youth Studies.” But as clichéd as it sounds, in only a couple of weeks these classes completely changed my idea of what I wanted out of my college experience. I am glad that I was practically forced into taking them, because I never would have realized otherwise that I am so passionate about these subjects.

I am learning to love learning as I am finally able to study what I want to. It’s what so many of us dream of in high school. Also, I’m thriving in the environment of being independent and responsible for what new knowledge and skills I learn.

This first semester has been fun, exciting and, of course, stressful — yet easier than I thought. The most important lesson I’ve learned is that I am not alone, that I am surrounded by some 30,000 fellow students who are striving for the same things. In a strange way, they have become a protective family for me.

Though my start was a little bit rough, I have learned my way around, accepted the fact that my roommates may never be my best friends and made other friends in unexpected places. I had so many expectations for what college life would be like, but it turned out to be quite different — and more exciting — than I had ever imagined.

Sara is a freshman at Georgia State.