Writing about my school is not typically something I take part in, and today it occurred to me that I have no idea why that is.
It isn't a secret that I am very passionate about the school I chose to attend. In fact, I've known since I was about five years old that I wanted to study at Kalamazoo College. The first time my little feet hit the sidewalks and I looked up around at the stunning Georgian architecture, I was hooked. The air of academia and knowledge, the sounds of students chatting with the people that would be their life long friends, what's not to love?
College can be incredibly frustrating and K is no exception to that. There are days where I have two papers due and seven chapters to read and four hours to do it all, so I question why I'm here. There are times in the cafeteria where I am so sick of the food that I convince myself that anywhere else would be better. There are moments where I think of how easy it would be to quit school and live in my parents' basement and become a recluse. I even allow myself one major cry, freak out, declare-my-life-is-over episode a quarter. (It usually happens around eighth week).
But in those times of trouble, I look outside at those big, brick buildings and realize everyone else is in the same boat as I am. We call it a 'stress culture'. No one here has it all figured out and I know I'm not the only one freaking out.
There are experiences that I've had here that would've been impossible anywhere else. There are people I've met, friends I've made, professors who have guided me that would never have been on my radar had I picked a different college. People that are irreplaceable to me, most of the people I consider to be my best friends.
The hilltop campus is unmatchable in my mind in terms of beauty. In the summer, the bright green grass of the quad provides a lovely place to do homework and hang out with friends. Watching the leaves fall in autumn from a wing-back armchair in the reading room, whilst snuggled up with some assigned reading is truly magical. Slip-sliding down the brick streets in the winter or helping students unfamiliar with snow to make a snowman can be the funniest thing in the world. And smelling the Crocuses when they first pop from the dirt in the spring is like experiencing a whole campus wake up from the sleepiness of winter.
Kalamazoo College is home to me. From the historic campus to the modern, free-thinking community, it's a special little school that I would never leave if I didn't have to. I know after my next three years, I won't be ready to go. To this day my parents say they wish they could come back and have another four years here. But the best thing about K is that once you're a hornet, you're always a hornet. So I'll end my love letter to KZoo by simply saying, I couldn't be more proud to attend this institution.
