Change is something people will always experience in life, whether it be welcomed or not. New experiences can go hand-in-hand with change, shaping us and turning us into different people. Along with change comes continuity, the things that stay the same in the midst of a complex and complicated life. Some people find continuity comforting and safe, feeling like they are wrapped in a security blanket while dreading change and finding it stressful like a storm blowing through. Others thrive off of change, feeling the rush of excitement and adrenaline all while finding continuity boring like everything is too still and silent. I am one of those people who like finding the middle ground between new experiences and comforting familiarity. College is an experience that pushed me right out of my safety zone and into new experiences for my first year, then brought me change but familiarity the second year.
My first year of college. I was excited and couldn’t wait to be starting my next chapter. We packed the car to the brim and hit the road for the four-hour drive. My body was vibrating with excitement and nervousness. I would watch out the window as the green trees and concrete buildings blurred and turned into fields upon fields as we passed by. I couldn’t do that long though, the nausea from being carsick would kick in too fast while also making me feel like I was spinning. I could hear the soft music playing and my parents chatting, talking about how their youngest is getting too old for their liking. It must be weird for them to have to take their 17-year-old daughter to college and leave her behind for weeks at a time.
Once the time came for them to leave, I could tell that this wasn’t something they wanted to do. Not that they weren’t happy and proud to be able to have someone in the family finally go to college, they were just scared that they weren’t actually going to physically be there for this part of my life. We got my room all set up, and they left. I looked around and saw pretty much plain walls. It was all white with only the black from my bed, and purple from my roommate’s bed adding color to the room. Neither of us were decoration people since she came from abroad, and I didn’t feel like decorating another new space. The room looked almost sterile, but at the same time, it felt personal. I don’t think it necessarily hit me yet that I wasn’t going to be seeing my parents again this week or even the next few weeks.
Once it came time to make friends, I felt stressed but suddenly that vanished. One day, I wasn’t talking to anybody, and the next, I suddenly found myself amongst people who, I’m pretty sure, will continue being in my life. I found my place, that’s what went through my mind. It was a weird concept for me to have to make friends once again. I come from a town where everybody knows everybody and barely any new people join meaning I basically have had the same friends since I was 8. Finding new friends at college was something new and strange for me. Something I wasn’t expecting was feeling so at ease with my new friends as the weeks went on.
As the year was chugging on, I started noticing my friends becoming homesick and not wanting to be here. They were getting snippy and more exhausted. It was something I was struggling to relate to. I wasn’t feeling homesick. Sure, sometimes I could feel overwhelmed, but I didn’t automatically think “I want to go home”. I enjoyed being here. Being able to feel independent but knowing there’s still support I could get if needed. I enjoyed having a consistent schedule. I enjoyed seeing the green colors change to beautiful yellows, oranges, and reds, something that rarely happens in Western New York anymore. I enjoyed feeling the brisk, cold weather when I’d go for walks in the fall and the beginning of winter. One thing I did miss dearly was sports. The feeling of being part of a team and the excitement and nerves that would run through my body when getting ready and playing a game. This was something I knew would be a big change, as I was a kid who loved playing sports.
The next time I felt myself changing was when I met with my advisor while distressed halfway through the second semester. I thought I came in knowing what I want to become (an anthropologist), but in reality, I was struggling with the idea of knowing what I wanted to do (heavily between Geoscience, Anthropology, and whatever else flew through my brain). So many people around me were confident and passionate about what they wanted to do with their lives, but I felt like I was drowning in choices. I’ve always liked trying new things and gaining knowledge, but I never really felt the passion some people have when they talk about what they want. I ended freshman year on a note of teetering between all the possible choices.
My summer before sophomore year was a weird change. I was ready to leave home, but at the same time, I wasn’t feeling that same rush of excitement that I felt the first time around. Maybe both school and leaving home had just lost that feeling of newness. This drive to campus was different than before, my brothers came along instead of my dad, so that made the car ten times louder. The windows rolled down, the music loud and not the same genre as before. This time, everybody was grouchy. I think it was because we were having trouble accepting the fact that not only one of us was leaving. My oldest brother was moving out-of-state once again, and my second brother was prepping to leave the state as well. So much change at one time.
This time, my family had to leave before anything could be set up. We said our goodbyes with me wishing my oldest brother luck in North Carolina, and him joking he won’t see me again until I’m 21. Twenty-one. That’s not until my senior year which stresses me out even more. They left to make the trek back to New York with my mom calling me about halfway through to tell me she was going to leave my brothers on the side of the road if they don’t stop being annoying. Well at least that’s the same, we could never get all three of us kids in the car without us being obnoxious, somebody yelling at somebody, somebody getting pushed around, and our parents frustrated to no end.
Seeing my friends again felt so normal. Honestly, I was expecting to feel a little awkward at first seeing them again, but it was like no time had passed. And one of my favorite parts is how it felt like we’ve known each other for years instead of just one. The level of comfort we found in each other and the knowledge we gained about each other is insane. I don’t know if or how I would survive college without the familiarity of them.
We all crowded into my and my roommate’s room to set everything up. It was definitely crowded with five of us packed into the room, bins everywhere, and beds disassembled. It was getting hot, and it was becoming overwhelming, everyone touching and moving things around without me knowing where it was going while I was still thinking about how my middle brother and I got into an argument when they were leaving. It felt like it was foreshadowing how I would be feeling throughout the semester.
I became homesick, it was a weird feeling that I didn’t necessarily feel last year. The feeling of dread of not being in a familiar place and not wanting to do anything related to the school. It was spilling into my schoolwork and how I was interacting with people. I was calling my parents and siblings a lot more than I did the previous year even if it was just for a few minutes. I felt comfortable and at ease once I talked to them or even had them just sitting on the phone while I was busy doing something. The homesick feeling may have stemmed from the fact that most people didn’t see freshman to sophomore year as a big change because they’d already done a year of college. To me, it felt more like an actual change because hitting my second year meant I’m committed to growing up and becoming an adult; this felt more like the next step in life rather than starting freshman year. It almost feels like shedding an old skin and growing into the new one as I age and change. As the semester continued, I started feeling less and less homesick. I was not feeling the need to hear my family talk, and I went on with my semester, continuing to push my way through.
This time around, my distress about knowing what I want to do forced me into a lot of research. I did my research on careers in Anthropology before I even started college to be sure there will be good job options. The same answers came up as before, but it was comforting to do. I then sat distressed in my friend’s room that always feels comforting and homey to me; we always make the joke of saying “We work hard to make this house a home,” and truly it has become one to us. This room is where I finally talked my way through and decided to make anthropology my major and earth science my minor but keeping an open mind to other ideas if I decide differently.
These two years, well, a year and the start of the next, felt the same yet different. Change is something that can feel different with each start. It can become overwhelming but at the same time, something you feel you need. The feeling of wanting something so much and knowing it’s necessary, but also feeling overwhelmed once that time comes. It’s something that can happen with every situation. Change becomes something that is a staple and that we must overcome.