Dear Campus Celebrity,
Hello, you. Have you noticed me?Â
Because I quite literally see you EVERYWHERE. In the Arbor. Walking past Storke Plaza. Afternoon coffee runs. Second floor Ethnic and Gender Studies room in the library.Â
We’ve never interacted, never said a single “hello.” Honestly, I don’t think we’ve ever even made eye contact. But if there’s one thing I can count on, it’s passing you on the ILP stairs and thinking to myself, “Who on earth is that person? And why do I see them everywhere?”
This is far from a love note or an admission of stalking (although I can see how it might come off that way). It’s more a genuine expression of my confusion. In a school with over 24,000 people, it’s honestly fascinating that I always see the same cast of characters as I go about my day. And you’re in the running for the lead role this quarter.Â
I think the term “campus celebrity” best describes my relationship to you — to me, you are an entity that is more than just a random person I don’t know. You exist in a state of mystique, and whenever I see you, I’m starstruck by the shocking coincidence of it all. I then proceed to immediately whip out my phone and text all of my friends: “you won’t believe who I just saw.”
There’s a certain joy to having a campus celebrity. Personally, I find it oddly thrilling whenever I spot a notable figure while walking in between classes. It’s honestly heartwarming to see the same cast of characters, regularly witnessing my own personal stars go about their day-to-day lives.Â
To me, campus celebrities are a reminder of how small the world can be, a realization that is equal parts terrifying and enticing. On one hand, seeing the same people over and over again indicates that this campus is way too small. This notion is reaffirmed when other people share the same notable figures as me, or worse, KNOW my celebrities personally (i.e. running into the guy with the bright blue bike helmet at a friend’s birthday party). I regularly find myself choking on the suffocating web of connections within UCSB, reeling from the realization that everybody somehow knows everybody.
But campus celebrities are also a reminder of everything that’s awesome about college — that everyone knows everybody, and the possibilities are endless. One girl’s celebrity is another girl’s best friend/talking stage/mortal enemy. For better or worse, we are all connected to one another.Â
You’ve recently been added to the ranks of my biggest past campus celebrities in my life, such as the UCSB men’s basketball player I always see on the Amtrak. Or my PSTAT 5A professor from freshman year. Can’t forget about that one guy my friend used to have a crush on, and also the roommate of a guy I used to have a crush on. I have no tangible connection to these people, and yet, whenever I see them, I’m filled with a level of excitement that’s almost ridiculous given the situation.
The odds of you noticing me in this same way are slim. Chances are you’ve never noticed that we lock our bikes in the same place on Thursday mornings, or that we both prefer Summit Cafe to the Arbor. In fact, I run the risk of coming off as absolutely insane in this letter you’ll never read.Â
But I’ll accept that risk and take that reputational hit happily, because I have a sneaking suspicion you have some campus celebrities too. They might be your roommate’s lab partner, or the guy who fills his glass of milk to the brim at DLG. Rec Cen worker or the drummer of an Isla Vista band. Maybe you keep on seeing this one person everywhere, and you whip out your phone to text your friends “you won’t believe who I just saw” after walking past them at Harold Frank Hall.
Whatever the case may be, I would like to thank you for your contributions to my college experience. And who knows? I very well might be your campus celebrity as well.Â
See you tomorrow probably,
Lauren