It was a Thursday in August when I first set foot on campus. I was 18 and expected college to be the easiest thing in the world. I would love all my classes, immediately meet my best friends for the next four years, and go to every party. However, I only got some things right. I hated my classes despite being excited about my then Political Science major. I met one of my best friends, but I still felt lonely all the time. I went to every party. When I was home for winter break, I cried to my mom. She understood- she always does. I had such high hopes for college, yet I wasn’t getting the intellectual excitement that I wanted. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life, let alone for the next four years. My mom suggested I try out a philosophy class.
It was a Tuesday in January, and I walked into my Intro to Ethics class. I left with a smile despite the freezing wind and signed up for another introductory philosophy course, dropping my political science class. I began to get back the sparkle I was so desperately trying to find. By April, I had changed my major to Philosophy. I looked forward to going to class and engaging in discussions with both my peers and professors. I remained guarded and shy, but my old self was emerging.
On a Thursday in August, two years after my first day at UVM, one of my classmates approached me in the bookstore. She asked what I had thought of the reading for our class later that day. I hadn’t done it yet and I found her intimidating, so I lied and said I thought it was pretty simple. I attempted to do the reading before class and found that it was far from simple. When I arrived at the philosophy building on South Williams Street, I sat next to the girl from the bookstore and her friend. I had a few classes with them before, but I was too shy to be the first one to start a conversation. The three of us exchanged phone numbers and made a group chat. On Halloween, I ran into them at a bar. We spent the night drinking Moscow Mules and giggling. When I presented my final paper to my professor, I told her that I had become “real life, not just class friends” with the two girls. She smiled and said that she was happy her class gave us an excuse to bond. I was happy too.
As I prepare for my last semester of college, I’ve spent much of my time feeling nostalgic and reflecting on the last three and a half years. I’ve found classes that have changed my outlook on life, like Quarter Life Crises taught by Professor Tyler Doggett. The class centered around the anxieties that come with being in your early twenties with college graduation looming. The final project was for us to do whatever we wanted. I wrote a post-apocalyptic short story. Another student made a board game based on the myth of Sisyphus (the guy pushing the rock up the mountain). A few student students wrote songs. One student made a short film and despite not knowing her personally, I teared up. The class provided a space for us to navigate issues of work, parenting, and how to live a satisfying life.
The philosophy department has granted me several role models from my professors. I always say that I want to be Professor Don Loeb when I grow up. He is extremely accomplished and his life has given me a long list of goals. If you have the chance, take a class with Don. He cares deeply about his students and his guidance has served as a beacon for me throughout college. Although I haven’t taken a class with every professor in the department, I have thoroughly enjoyed sitting in the lounge of the philosophy building and getting to know all the professors. You never know what type of conversation you’re in for, and many of them are extremely enlightening and thought-provoking.
Dear UVM Philosophy,
Thank you. You have given me my best friends and role models. You’ve given me fulfillment and a fair share of philosophical references that only my philosopher friends find as funny as I do. You’ve given me excitement for a career path in law. I will miss the little house on South Williams Street and the passion it contains. I’ll also miss the comfortable couch that has potentially been in the lounge longer than I have been alive. You’ve given me a home at UVM, and for that, I will be forever grateful.