Staring at my calendar and counting the days until I graduate, I can hardly breathe. I can’t think, I can’t focus, I can’t even begin to articulate what it feels to be so close to saying goodbye to SAU.
There are so many stories I could share, but I assume no one wants to read about the time when I had to give a comedy roast to my retiring education professor for a grade at 8:00 am. (Although, it’s a heck of a story, I promise.) Likewise, I assume no one wants me to recycle tired sentiments about how SAU has “changed me for life” or how “I’ll always treasure these days”.
This is a site for women to share and laugh and grow together. So I’m going to summarize my time at SAU by reflecting on the amazing women of this school, past and present, who have made me the person I am today.
Coming into this school four years ago, I thought my worth was defined by what men thought of me. During that first semester, I would dart my eyes around as I walked through campus, trying to see if anyone was checking me out. My self-esteem was deeply entwined with the number on my bathroom scale, and—more than anything—I just wanted to be noticed.
At first, I wasn’t content with the people who noticed me. These were girls who talked about zombie apocalypses and spent Saturday nights watching Nic Cage movies. They didn’t party, they didn’t wear short shorts. I wasn’t sure if they could give me the college experience I was looking for.
I was right. I started eating dinner with them, spending weekends playing board games with them, and taking classes with them, and I soon realized that I wasn’t in for a “traditional” college experience. I was gaining something special and unique from these weirdos who had welcomed me into their hearts.
I was gaining role models.
I was (and am) constantly amazed by their talent, their knowledge, and their insight about the world around them. They made me realize that a person should be judged by how much positivity and goodness they can put back into the world, not just by how “cool” or “hot” they are.
Their humor and sensitivity are responsible for the person I am now. So, thank you.
Thank you for teaching me that I can eat three brownies in the caf and not have to hate myself afterwards.
Thank you for teaching me that the men who yell at me while I’m running aren’t complimenting me, they’re showing me why feminism needs to exist.
Thank you for teaching me that it’s okay to cry in front of your friends, your professors, your barista, even random people on the street. It’s okay to have feelings.
Thank you for teaching me that it doesn’t matter if I’m at a bar or if I’m eating chips on the floor of a dorm as long as I am surrounded by the people I love.
Thank you for teaching me that it’s better to debate the logistics of whether one would drown in a pool full of Jell-O than to gossip about others.
Thank you for teaching me that it’s okay to be different. It’s okay to be weird. In fact, it’s encouraged.
In less than two weeks, I will be gone. They will be gone, and the spaces we used to call ours will belong to a new generation of Ambrose students. I can only hope that the girls who come to fill our shoes can find the same inspiration and solace in each other as I did.
I have had an unspeakably amazing time here at SAU. As sad as I am to be leaving, I can walk across the stage at graduation with confidence, knowing that my beautiful, badass friends will always be a part of me.
The women of this school are hilarious, brilliant, and bafflingly kind. We make SAU what it is, so let’s make these last moments of the year match our awesomeness. Let’s go out with a bang, girls.