Going into senior year, college students are warned that their last days at school will pass right before their eyes. We can all agree to this fact, but for most of the year we brush our fate aside and act like we have all the time in the world. Now, I’m sitting here on my last weekend at the University of Dayton, looking around as I try to soak in as much of the college experience as possible.
The reality that four years have come and gone didn’t actually hit me until I was on the way to my last lecture. There was nothing out of the ordinary about the walk, except maybe the "last day of school" picture that my roommates and I took before leaving. Anyhow, the realization came as I crossed Lowes St. and saw everyone on their way to class. The moment flashed me back to the first time I witnessed the student neighborhood in all its glory during freshman year orientation. I specifically recall wondering down the street with a group of people I had just met and being completely mesmerized by the fact that all your friends could live within blocks of each other. Freshman me saw Dayton as a sort of heaven where I was free to run around my own personal world and have fun. Today, I still feel the exact same way and a part of me wants to continue on this path, but the better half of me sees that like I grew into this scene, I need to grow out of it.
As my roommates and I continued onto Kiefaber St., all I could think of were the Saturdays spent hanging out with friends on porches and lawns. It was on this street that I made both good memories (celebrating the men’s basketball team after they made it to the Sweet 16) and some not so good memories (the St. Paddy’s day riots of 2013) over the past four years. Looking up and down the rows of houses, I realized that although I would likely not be participating in any more mock weddings or slip n’ slide parties, they would still continue on this street for the next generation of students.
During every other day of that year, approaching campus was a normal site, but during that walk Founders Hall stood out like a sore thumb. That dorm was where it had all begun: the randomly matched roommate that I am still friends with four years later, the pre-renovation pride in-room sinks and spacious hallways, the friends I made from grounders to the secluded fourth floor. To me, Founders stands as a symbol for time passing, but more so it stands to symbolize how I, along with other students, started building relationships with others which, in turn, built our character.
Once I made it to class, I can’t deny that I was more focused on reminiscing about my past four years than completing SET evaluations. In the midst of my teacher’s wrap-up, I had a realization: even though people say you’ll be in denial when college ends, the memories you’ve had can serve as an acceptance that will move you into your next stage of life.
