Year 1: Disaster. Year 2: TBD
Being on campus as a sophomore after starting freshman year virtually
By: Vishalli Alagappan
“Oh yeah, you betcha. I was operating at, like, a 15% last year and since being on campus, I’ve shot up to, like, a 75%!” The Minnesotan accent aside, it was comforting to see my friend do a whole-body nod in agreement. I logged into freshman year, as many others did, and I felt more accomplished with the butt indentation that I skillfully crafted on my bed last year than with my academics or social life. Like a phone on low battery mode, I did the bare minimum to survive until… I didn’t know what—I had no clear picture of “the end.” Sophomore year definitely wouldn’t be; the pandemic was still very much alive. I was anxious all week before classes started, anticipating an email in August announcing that classes were cancelled because cases were rising in Minnesota. All I learned last year was to expect the worst. I was amazed when I was able to find my way to Smith Hall without getting hopelessly lost, excited for class, and wanted to finish my homework for a change (that just lasted for the first two days though). I thought it’d be weird to be on campus, but it seemed so natural. As I sat on the grass by Scholar’s Walk and listened to a paranormal and true-crime podcast, I felt a wave of peace wash over me. Something that I hadn’t felt in two years.
After my podcast, I scrolled through TikTok and came across someone asking “How do y’all find the love of your lives in the first two months of college? It took me four months just to find the admin office.” I wasn’t particularly interested in finding the love of my life right away, but I did want to find “my people.” However, due to my total mental exhaustion, I gave up on trying to connect with anyone last year. This year though, I have introduced myself so many times that my name doesn’t even sound like my name anymore. It seems like a race to find your people and your community in college, both this year and last. I keep reminding myself that it’s ok to take my time with it, but the fear of being left behind keeps creeping back into my head whenever I see a picture of random smiling, unmasked faces on Instagram with the caption, “Out with the girlies!” The constant guilt and envy I feel takes all the enjoyment out of scrolling mindlessly after a tiring day.
I was an absolute recluse this past year and a half. I left my parents’ house maybe once a month, if that. Being thrust into a bustling campus this year has been a bizarre experience. Out of class, I don’t know when to have my mask on and when to take it off. After class, I went to get a coffee at Starbucks. Almost everyone was unmasked, so I felt odd being double masked up on a Thursday afternoon in that Starbucks. As I sat down with my coffee and took my masks off, a friend from high school came over to say hi, and I started freaking out about whether I should put my mask on when I was talking to them or not. The internal debate that ended in indecision kept me from focusing on any word my friend uttered. I didn’t want to offend them by putting my mask on, but I wanted to be safe too. I just don’t know where the line is sometimes.
Often in movies, people have epiphanies during their therapy session, and this realization completely turns their life around. One such epiphany for me was recognizing that there is no perfect college experience. Sophomore year doesn’t have to be perfect. Freshman year most definitely wasn’t. There were so many things that went wrong when I moved into my apartment this year. My mom was freaking out about having forgotten the hangers, and not having the Twin XL sheets fit my “Twin XL'' bed. But I was just happy to be here. Freshman year was the worst year of my life, but there is one thing that it did teach me: just let it go. Things rarely go the way you want them to. The concept itself isn’t anything revolutionary, and I must’ve heard it a million times last year. However, this realization did give me permission to simply exist in this chaotic world, and savor the normalities of being on campus, like laying in the grass with people walking hurriedly to their classes around you, and rooting around in the laundry basket of clean clothes for an outfit because you don’t have any hangers.