Reminiscing

I’ve really been missing college recently. My time at Furman University stimulated me intellectually and spiritually in ways I have not experienced before or since. It’s nice to be an independent adult, earning money, living in a pseudo-house rather than an apartment, owning a pet you don’t have to hide from authorities. And, of course, it’s definitely nice to be marrying a smart, loving, visionary man, and being in a relationship (with him) that is friendship-based and stable, without all the drama of teenage and even college relationships.

But, there’s still something about those mild afternoons by the Furman lake, sipping café mochas (my gateway drug into real coffee, post-college) at the Tower Café, keeping my best friend company while she worked in the religion-department office, eating those awesome black bean cakes in the Dining Hall, praying in the Chapel, hearing lectures by Will Willimon and Martin Marty, and other people with chicly-alliterative names. I’m odd, I guess, in that my most transformative experiences in college actually were the classes—Religion & Culture, and Religious Approaches to Meaning with Dr. Blackwell, Hebrew with Dr. Bibb, Astronomy with Dr. Moffett, who really, truly, looked and sounded like Drew Carey. I recall chatting with Dr. Granieri about Russian history, then traveling to Russia and Central Europe with him and 26 other Furmanites.

I’ve been perusing Furman’s website the last couple days, reminiscing, and I’ve read a few of the “Freshman Journals”—a brilliant idea of the admissions office (for whom I used to give tours, happily bragging on Furman’s academics, arts, and friendly atmosphere). Six freshmen kept online journals all year, mainly for the purpose of letting prospective students catch a glimpse of real life at Furman. I started with Claire, an obviously popular-girl-type Army brat who had tons of school (and hall) spirit from day one of orientation-week, and not-surprisingly joined KD when rush came around in January. She talked about parties and brother-sister hall gatherings, and all the “amazing women” in her sorority, and I was filled with nostalgia for a college life…completely unlike my own.

I hated the forced mingling of orientation. I was glued to my computer, e-mailing with friends from high school. Even after I adjusted to college life, I still preferred one-on-one chats with a friend to a whole-hall game night or fraternity party. It wasn’t until junior year that I really found my niche and made close friends. While tempted to say I’d do it differently, if I had it to do over again, I have to admit that probably not too much would change. I am a very different person now than I was at eighteen, but I’m still introverted and sometimes downright anti-social. I would still value my significant-other more than a hall-full of potential-friends. I would still feel awkward at parties and feel out of place with both the religious conservatives and the gregarious, socially-confident, let’s-all-hang-out-in-a-big-group sorts of people.

But that’s okay.

My college experience was wonderful, and it is primarily what is driving me toward the next academic step I hope to take: getting my Ph.D. and teaching at a liberal arts college. I hope to go back to Furman for a long weekend sometime, and remember the way I lived it—the way I loved it. I’ll set up my laptop at a table by the lake, sip a latte, and work on my dissertation.