I’m almost halfway through my junior year already. That’s absurd. To think I have gone here for [almost] five semesters… twenty months on campus. T-w-e-n-t-y. I’ve seen the leaves fall a total of three times. I’ve endured two gruesome winters. And I’ve prayed for the arrival of two fashionably late springs. I’ve witnessed the seasons changing a number of times now, and with each change I experience a refreshing feeling—of shedding the old and welcoming the new.
But nothing here is really new anymore—neither the buildings nor the people. Not the weekend plans or the coffee orders. Nothing glimmers anymore… but maybe that’s because it’s not being seen through young underclassmen eyes? Nowadays, I can’t seem to walk out my door without running into, at minimum, five familiar people on my commute to class. Old section acquaintances, freshmen-year friends, teammates, old flames, potential new flames, and even that Lamont barista I became tight with. Harvard’s campus has shrunk and continues to do so with every passing moment I spend here. I was once that slightly overwhelmed freshman eagerly dragging my bags up Wigglesworth stairs, now I am that junior who can recommend classes and professors to you by name. There’s been not one, but two classes of eager freshmen climbing those same stairs since I last did. Wow, do the seasons change fast.
Just like the seasons have come and gone, so have the people in my life. That’s not meant to be a bad or a sad thing, either. I actually find the idea just as refreshing as the first spring day you can confidently forgo a coat. The people I see on my morning commute—all those passing hello’s—they are like the leaves laying on the sidewalk. Where they once were so significant—so bright! —they are now no longer. And, honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way. What I’m trying to say is, it would be a pity to expect a college student to stay static throughout their four (ish) formative years of college. Our passions change, our directions change, and our friends change too. I have made some exceptional friends in my three years here. Some stay, some go, some return. You can never predict it. But their value in my life isn’t based on the length of time I’ve spent with them, but rather on how that time was spent. It sounds cheesy, I know, but it’s a genuine sentiment. Incredible people have made remarkable, unforgettable impacts on me in very short periods of time. And then they were gone. That’s just college, or so I find.
I greatly appreciate the seasons of friends I have cycled through thus far in my Harvard experience, and I like that the seasons continue to change. As the leaves fall and they are replaced with snowflakes, I’ll eventually meet more new and exciting personalities. This constant change—seasonal change—makes the moments seem greater somehow—nothing is ever ruined; nothing loses its sweetness, because it’s gone before anything can taint the memory.
It’s a refreshing thought, isn’t it?
So, as this current season moves onto the next, I’ll be bundling myself up and waiting as the new season of sweet company comes my way. I guess not everything is dull with familiarity on this campus…not quite yet.