I first set foot in Mr. Jefferson’s University as an 11-year-old aspiring Olympic swimmer. At the request of my coach, my parents signed me up for the University’s summer swim camp to learn from more experienced swimmers and coaches. Never having spent extended time away from home, the initial trepidation of being on my own was daunting; a strange new environment, unfamiliar people and an increasing necessity for self-reliance. It took all of five minutes after my parents left me in Old Dorms for these feelings to dissolve; I was enamored.
From my second-story window in Hancock I overlooked masses of campers playing frisbee, whiffleball and football in the quad. I felt like a kid in a candy shop each time I entered O’Hill (the second day I went an entire 24 hours eating only from the soft-serve ice cream machine… terrible idea in hindsight). The athletic facilities were captivating and I could finally stay up all night playing video games, which were contraband in my household.
Most importantly, I made friends throughout the week who brought a positive influence into my life and gave me some of my fondest childhood memories. I convinced my parents to let me return for two consecutive summers, where I bought enough University apparel to turn my entire wardrobe blue and orange. The school and the atmosphere were electrifying, and I wanted to be part of it. I wanted to be a Cavalier.
Fast-forward seven years. While hopes and dreams of Olympic swimming had faded, my resolve to attend the University had not. I sat on my bed in Kent after my parents departed for home, and found myself in a familiar silence and shock, not realizing what would happen next. I looked out the window to a reassuringly similar sight. Not much had changed: students gathered on the quad, O’Hill still had that same ice cream machine, nightly extracurricular activities on the hall never lost their amusement, but most importantly I found myself again surrounded by people who I knew would become lifelong friends and share in countless memories.
Come May 18th, I anticipate experiencing the same anxiety as my 11- and 18-year-old selves, and when the apprehension finally hits, there won’t be a window to look out of for instant reassurance. However, one of the most important lessons I have learned on Grounds is that while you may not be able to control the situation, you can choose how to respond. And it is this response moving forward in life that will matter most after I walk the Lawn one last time as a student.
I will choose to remember the friendships I have formed as a student, and the joy they brought me: countless weekends at corner bars, the spectacle of basketball games in JPJ, Lighting of the Lawn, Foxfield, spontaneous trips around Charlottesville, sunny afternoons relaxing on the Lawn, intramural games at the park and, yes, maybe even a class project or two. During my first year, a fourth-year once told me, “the work always gets done,” and he was absolutely right. You can procrastinate on your schoolwork, but you can’t put your friendships on hold. Lucky for us, Clemons is always open.
My challenge to the fourth year class is to put the friendships you have made here at the forefront of your life, for you may not again have the opportunity to be surrounded by such incredible people. Measure your success as a graduate not by the title after your name or the amount on your bonus check, but by how well you keep in touch with these friends five years out, 10 years out and hopefully further. And I’m not talking about the friends who write on your Facebook wall for your birthday or include you in their group Snapchats. Even texting can be a nefarious habit. Instead, call a friend on a random Wednesday afternoon, start a GroupMe, decide to meet up with those living close by for drinks after work, take your vacation days and plan a spontaneous adventure, and don’t forget to return to grounds for Alumni events. Hopefully you will have the opportunity to make new friends wherever your path leads, but don’t forget those who made these past four years perhaps the best four of your life. For they are what will make you truly happy.
Nick Allen is a Fourth Year Trustee.
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