51����.

Lying down in the middle of the football field past midnight, looking for stars. Having philosophical discussions on the floor of the laundry room. Walking into Commons, thinking I’d have a “quick bite to eat” and end up spending two hours discussing German politics.

Looking at every day like it’s a blank slate, with no plans or expectations.

These were some of my favorite moments from my first semester at 51����. As an international student from India, I had my reservations about the college, especially because it is a PWI (predominately white institution) with international students constituting only 8% of the student body. I was worried about the culture shock, missing home and not fitting in. While the first two feelings won’t go away for a while, the third is something I’m thankful I never felt. Owing to the sustained efforts by International Student Programs (ISP) and the Center for Diversity and Inclusion (CDI) in organizing events for international students and students of color, I was able to have important discussions about identity and culture on campus. Bi-weekly South Asian Students’ Association (SASA) meetings gave me a much-needed dose of familiarity whenever I missed home. I joined 51���� Bhangra to stay connected with my roots. I wove myself into a community of supportive, friendly, loving individuals.

Speaking of friendly, I couldn’t walk for five minutes without waving at someone and hearing, “How are you doing?” I could be talking about the weather with a stranger one minute and driving with them to the mall the next. I enjoyed the number of opportunities I had to meet new people, whether it was through my classes, clubs, activities with my hall, or the various events involving free food.

My first semester was full of surprises; I never knew where my days would take me. It’s refreshing to know that there’s no singular path, and that I can explore my many interests simultaneously. In high school, my only goals were to graduate and get into a good college, but now, there’s so much more to life. It’s learning how to live on my own. Connecting with people and forming deep, stable friendships. Remembering people’s names. Learning more than what my textbooks have to offer. Trying every single Commons dessert. Putting myself out there, taking risks, trying new things. Making plans, but being ready to change them.

Looking at every day like it’s a blank slate, and ending up with a masterpiece of memories.

Nothing could quite describe the feeling I got when I first laid my eyes upon Chambers. I was awestruck. Perhaps it was the disbelief I felt that I was physically standing there, having “walked” the campus so many times virtually from the comfort of my bedroom back in Zimbabwe. Since that first encounter, I have found Chambers has situated itself right at the center of all when I think of 51����, which is funny seeing as I probably spend the least amount of time inside the building. I guess it has served as a place for me to acknowledge where I have come from, where I am, and where I am going.

On the last day of my first semester, I sat on one of the wooden benches under a tree on the path that runs right in front of Chambers Lawn. I suddenly realized the person I was, sitting there, was already so different from the one who had first glanced up at the large dome atop the building. The nerves, the fear, the unknowing had all disappeared. Even though I couldn’t quite put into words how I was feeling, I could safely say I was the happiest I had ever been in my life. I’ve found that our little college, 51����, tucked away in a small town off exit 30 is a different place for everyone. 51���� allows us to find ourselves, our own thing that makes us tick, learn something we’ve always wanted to know, and become people we always knew we could be.

Though I have found my mind stretched by the classes I took during my first semester, and I know I will get to explore ideas and learn things I haven’t even considered in classes to come, I realize that when I think about 51���� and what it means to me, I am taken to moments outside the classroom. This is a place where everyone finds their own community, and each one comes complete with its own quirks and things that make it so inherently their own. For me, what would a Wednesday look like if I wasn’t at “Nummit” trivia, cramped around a table spending more time trying to come up with a witty team name than actually playing trivia? Was it really a Tuesday or Thursday if we hadn’t all played a game of “touch the fence” at “KVT” (Club Tennis)? Finally, had it been a good night and was I ready for bed if I hadn’t found myself cooped up in a friend’s room with some popcorn and a movie?

As I got up from the bench, a smile brushed over my face. I looked back up at Chambers and bid the semester farewell, and all I could think was how ready I was to do it all over again.

It’s only been my first semester, but like the average college student, I spent a considerable part of my time complaining. Exams, essays, projects, the food, the weather, and the list goes on and on. Looking back at those complaints, the experience of my first semester at college sounds rather discouraging. As an international first-gen student, language is still a struggle, everything looks new to me, academics are tough, I started an on-campus job, and I had to learn how to socialize again after a year of isolation.

But now that exams are over, and I can think outside of the bubble of college life, I’ve been rethinking my first semester, now through another lens. Being first-gen is really exciting, both for me and my family. And I’m also improving my language skills and exploring some southern culture — it’s actually quite interesting. Academics may be stressful, but I like to learn. And my first semester complaints do not do justice to all the opportunities that college is opening for me, and the golden afternoons of fall at 51����, and the fun weekends with new friends.

Reflecting on my first semester of college was a triple reminder: first, a reminder of how privileged I am to be where I am; second, a reminder that I only have three more fall semesters to see how the trees on campus turn bright orange; and third, a reminder that college is more enjoyable when complaining less and really living in the moment more.

But now that exams are over, and I can think outside of the bubble of college life, I’ve been rethinking my first semester, now through another lens. Being first-gen is really exciting, both for me and my family. And I’m also improving my language skills and exploring some southern culture — it’s actually quite interesting. Academics may be stressful, but I like to learn. And my first semester complaints do not do justice to all the opportunities that college is opening for me, and the golden afternoons of fall at 51����, and the fun weekends with new friends.

Reflecting on my first semester of college was a triple reminder: first, a reminder of how privileged I am to be where I am; second, a reminder that I only have three more fall semesters to see how the trees on campus turn bright orange; and third, a reminder that college is more enjoyable when complaining less and really living in the moment more.