There are countless stories of collegiate triumphs, late nights at the library (or, more commonly, the bars) and more often than not, a few stories of failures when you ask people about their college experiences. However, it's seldom that you hear of the lessons learned going into the final year of college, right before the great unknown. There's a good deal of pressure: one year left to find a job. There is a fair amount of sorrow: one more year to be with this same group of people, day after day. Equally, admittedly, there's an incredible amount of excitement. Being in that exact position, only one week of hell, followed by finals standing between me and my final year of college, I can't help but reflect back on the 10 most important lessons that I have learned at Loras College during this crazy year.
I've spent three years joining organizations, making friends (and losing some along the way) and more importantly, finding out who I am as an individual, which I promise is the only time I will ever use an age-old cliche. As stressful as this year has been (50-hour work weeks and an average night's sleep of 4 hours), it has prepared me for whatever might be ahead.
1. Duhawks never fly alone.
On March 16, 2016, tragedy struck as one of the residence halls on campus caught fire in the middle of the night. Forty-some students were immediately displaced, property was destroyed but more importantly, it felt like we, as a community, may have been slightly bruised. However, that very same day, students, faculty, organizations and teams came together collecting money, donating clothes and offering beds for the displaced students. The fraternity on campus alone raised $300 in the course of five hours, carrying around red Solo cups for change and bills in the cafeteria. Lists filled with items that were destroyed were distributed , professors extended deadlines and the Loras College community came together in a way that showed the strong connection that all Duhawks share.
2. Don't shy away from tough conversations.
At a liberal arts College, students are constantly asked to think outside of the box and try hard, but seldom are they ever asked to directly face issues that tend to be swept under the rug. This year, a speaker told her story. Not only had she struggled with alcohol and drug abuse, but these addictions led her into forced sex slavery and human trafficking. This was a young woman from Dubuque, Iowa. it was not a public service announcement taped in a big city hundreds of miles away. Hitting so close to home, literally, it became less of a conversation of, "This could happen to someone you know," but, "This did happen to someone you know." Her story pushed the audience to think about decisions, to ask the hard questions and to, most importantly, address the habitual use of drugs and alcohol among friends and fellow students.
3. Some stigmas are nearly impossible to get rid of.
As an active member and the Vice President of Recruitment for a fraternity, I must warn you that my opinions may be rooted in a subtle bias. However, the fraternity here has made leaps and bounds over the past semester to improve membership, increase quality over quantity and helping the larger community as a whole. However, despite assisting in various philanthropic events, taking disciplinary action when needed and outwardly addressing issues to hold members accountable, there are still many with an outwardly negative view of the fraternity. I'm not saying it's impossible for people's minds to change. However, when a large community isn't willing to accept change in the form of a reformed group of young men, it becomes increasingly more difficult to wash away the stigma that plagues varied groups and individuals.
4. Miracles can happen in 12 hours.
Dance Marathon, a nationwide event that raises funds for the Children's Miracle Network, is an event that's incredibly well received at Loras. Every year, children that suffer from unbelievable ailments come for 12 hours to our campus, and we have the honor of being able to dance our hearts out and do anything and everything that we can to help raise funds that go to the University of Iowa Children's Hospital. I had been involved in the organization for two years prior, with increasing responsibility each year. At the end of last year's event, I gave my hat to one of the Miracle Kids (who, to this day, is still my hero) and he ran off.
This year, I had a hefty role in the organization, which included being the emcee for the event. It was an hour until the event: I was consumed by nerves, overcome with excitement: I was ready for the day to begin. As I was about to go back one last time to our storage room before the event, the same Miracle Kid walked up to me with that same Hawaiian-themed Chicago White Sox hat, pointed at it, smiled and ran off again. I had never felt more sincere joy at any point in my life. We worked hard, we danced, we cried and laughed. We raised a collective $4,800 in the last two hours of the event, giving us the final total of $201,717.44. It was a moment I'll never forget.
5. Fear is a very powerful weapon.
Over a 13-day period in January, I was lucky enough to travel to Buenos Aires, Argentina with a handful of other classmates. However, we learned very quickly that the course itself wouldn't be incredibly uplifting. Going back to my second lesson in not shying away from tough conversations, this course focused on state terror and the Dirty War in Buenos Aires. We visited museums, memorials, neighborhoods, parks and plaques, all alluding to the tragedies that occurred, but even more tragically the impunity that ensued. We witnessed first hand the fear that people still have in the city. No one dares talk of what occurred over the military regime that issued in-state terror. Certain Jewish memorials don't allow pictures of buildings to be taken because they fear those images might be used to plan another attack. We watched as a group of nonviolent protesters sat outside on the streets as police units stood in full riot gear just around the corner, just out of sight of the protesters. There is a pervasive sense and understanding that nothing like the disappearance of the 30,000 men women, and children will ever happen again. However, there is a similar understanding that given the right social climate, it could.
6. Always help those in need (even dogs).
Being a college student can be stressful enough with class, a job, clubs and being relatively social, but always take time to help those in need. Vivian Bauer (pictured above; named after "Pretty Woman" and Jack Bauer) was, at one point, a mangy ball of fur, curled up on the side of the road, eating rotisserie chicken out of the garbage. Fast forward seven months, and now she has her shots, eats dog food, has gained weight and lives a much happier life. After finding her on the street, we took in little Vivian and started slowly weaning her off of human food and getting her eating dog food. We posted fliers, found Dubuque community Facebook pages to post on and started asking around for an owner. Eventually, we took her to the vet and they found that she wasn't chipped, so we paid for her shots and nursed her back to health. Part of the whole process was watching a paper-thin dog on the side of the road transform into a warm and kind creature, and knowing that we helped.
7. Take risks and reap the rewards.
One day, my sister and I decided we wanted to see Mumford & Sons. They weren't performing in Illinois or Iowa, and the closest was Madison, Wisconsin on the day before Dance Marathon. We decided to risk it and go to St. Louis. We didn't know how we would get there, where we would stay or if anything else would come up. However, we went with it, and decided that we were going to go with the flow: general admission tickets and everything else would work itself out. Five months flew by and the two of us, one week out, began to plan. She took the train, I drove down, she called her friend and we all met up and stayed at the friend's apartment. The weekend was filled with adventures: the Botanical Garden, the Budweiser Brewery, the City Museum (which is a glorified adult playground) and it all cost us about $25. When we arrived at the show we were five rows back and had the time of our lives. We didn't stress and we didn't get mad when our plans went awry. We took risks and we surely reaped the rewards.
8. Sometimes you have to let go.
My family, like many, is no stranger to the wicked disease that is cancer, so when the woman cutting my hair told me that she was a stage-four survivor, I had no choice but to go big or go home. I had decided to grow out my hair for a few months with the intention of cutting it off for the Children's Miracle Network, but I didn't intend to do it all the way without a guard. I sat down to cut my hair and the woman with the clippers had an infectious smile. "What are we going with? A one? A two?" she asked me. I paused to think about it, and she began to tell me her story. She survived stage-four breast and bone cancer. Her doctors told her that she had four years to live. Twenty-one cancer-free years later, she cuts hair for cancer patients going through chemotherapy. I couldn't think of one reason that I shouldn't buzz it all off, so I did. This applies to so much more than just hair. There are moments in life where we're bogged down by our possessions and desires. Sometimes, we just need to let it all go and begin living simply so that others can simply live.
9. It's OK to cry during a children's movie.
I will fully and openly own up to the fact that I cried during "Inside Out." For the first time in 21 years of life, I finally cried during a movie, and it was one made with bright colors and fun shapes for children. Then I realized something: children's movies aren't actually made for children. These movies are made for the adults taking the children to see them, and the bright colors and fun shapes are for the children. I saw the movie with my mother and afterward, she didn't say a word for at least an hour. Part of this all came from the fact that it's OK to say goodbye to parts of youth, but it's just as equally OK to be sad about them. I will not spoil the film, but for those who've seen it, I need not even explain at which part of the film I finally broke down and cried at a movie after 21 consecutive years of resisting it. This all leads in to my final lesson:
10. Life will always be different, but that's OK.
I've spent the past year getting to know each person in the picture above and growing so close with each one of them, and some of them are leaving after this year. I lost two grandparents and I gained a dog. Life has been changing faster than I can even pretend to keep up with, but that's all OK. My junior year of college is that point on the roller coaster when you've reached the top of the incline, just before it's all about to speed out of control. Now, I'm not saying that means it's all downhill. I'm saying that from now on, life is all about changing direction and speed. Life is comfortable right now, and I think that scares a lot of people. Embrace the change. Mourn those that you've lost, but celebrate them more often. Hang out with your close group of friends, but branch out and talk to new people. You only get one life, and it would be a real shame to live it with regret. Know that life won't always be that comfortable seat on your friend's back in the back row of a picture, moments before Dance Marathon begins, but life will always be yours to live. So live it.
