I think I'm just finally realizing what this magical place in the middle of nowhere really did for us.
What was it about Centre that made life so special? During the lowest moments of my college career, I couldn't stand how much I loved it there. I spent a night on a futon in the Nevin apartment during the unofficially official hell week for my fraternity. There weren't any blankets, so I made a half-hearted blanket with the wool coat that I was wearing. I think I might have also been sleeping in business attire for a fraternity meeting earlier that night. I had homework running out my ears but I didn't care - I was going to make it to the end of that six weeks. I had to carry a notebook, a lighter, gum or mints, and at least 2 writing utensils at all times. I couldn't walk on the grass. And despite the loathing that my mind told me to feel, I loved my brothers, and I was going to make it. And that was that.
But what was it about that place? I like to think that everybody that goes to Centre experiences its special-ness in some way or another.
I hope that everyone had that feeling I got when walking away from a really good class. Mine were usually French or math classes when this happened - I'd leave class for lunch at Cowan and just couldn't get my mind off of what had just happened. Maybe just the thrill of learning with people that really wanted to learn. Sure, Centre created a competitive bunch of jerks when Dean's List came out at the end of the semester, but we learned. And yeah, everyone put on the facade of being a leader or being a jock or having it all together, but really, we're all just trying to make it in our own ways. When I was a freshman, there was an RA in my building that I started to get to know because he was in a fraternity that I was interested in joining. I found out that he was not only in a fraternity, but a member of the Student Judiciary, had a girlfriend, was doing two majors, and played intramural sports on the side. I remember thinking - "Man this guy has his life together! I wish I could be like him! Maybe in a few years I'll be in his shoes."
A few years went by and I looked back on that guy, who had since become one of my closest friends at Centre when I joined the same fraternity as him. By coincidence, I happened to be assigned to live in the same room that he lived in when I had so revered his status a few years prior (I had since joined the RA staff). I looked back on all of the things that I had thought were critical to success, and I realized - he absolutely did not have it together, and neither does anyone, for that matter.
I hope everyone got to experience the joy of a slow Friday afternoon on campus when the sun slowly made its way to the railroad tracks by the warehouse after a long week. We'd get Chinese food and hang out on the front porch of the house and just relax, because Friday nights at the Phi Tau house usually always sucked - there wasn't any fighting it. But it was okay because you could always find someone to play ridiculous 90s, early 00s jams in the chapter room with - you could always find someone just as weird as you to watch Mulan on an uncomfortable futon with - you could always find someone to go on a late night McDonalds or Taco Bell run with, and you didn't have to have drinks to enjoy that. I like to think that people at other colleges couldn't find people as weird as Centre students on a slow Friday night.
I hope everyone felt the energy of the houses on a night where everything just seemed to go right - you met at a party, took a picture together, got the phone number, the whole deal. I remember being on the outside of this during my freshman and sophomore years - I didn't know much of anything about girls and I was usually there to be the sober monitor. I didn't drink a drop of alcohol until I went abroad during the spring of sophomore year. When I turned 21, I started to question my views against drinking. I started slow, but I developed a taste for wine and eventually bourbon (it took me until after college to really like beer). Once things really got going during senior year, I made some mistakes, as alcohol usually inclines us to do. I'd say that I regret these things - except I don't. I don't regret gaining an understanding of how much is too much (though I definitely regretted it in the moment). I don't regret pushing it too far, because otherwise I wouldn't know my limit. I don't regret being pressured to take that extra shot, because I now know how to say no when I'm faced with the same situation. Centre somehow created this environment where everyone was looking out for everyone - let's be honest, the RAs like to party just as much as any other Centre student.
On the opposite end, I had some dark days at Centre. I had days where all I really wanted to do was hide in Grant basement and play piano. The anxiety of finding friends in Cowan, that upcoming test that you knew you'd have to humble yourself to the mercies of the professor and their office hours in order to pass (after formulating intelligent questions about the homework that seems to be in another language), being excluded from someone's dinner plans at Guady's (probably a blessing to your intestines in retrospect); these might have seemed trivial and insignificant at the moment, but we know how stressful and difficult these moments were.
But was that the extent of our worry? A little high-schoolish FOMO or fear of embarrassment on a test? Looking back on these worries, I would gladly spend a night solo on campus as a student or bomb an exam than worry about the real world.
I know that everyone didn't experience the things I'm talking about, but I really hope so. I look back on those four years that now seem so long ago, even when I'm only two years out, and I see such a different me than the little boy that moved into Caldwell House in the fall of 2008. I'm not really even sure when it happened - I realized that there were people just as weird as me and it stopped bothering me. After graduating from Centre, I learned something very quickly - trusting people to really care about you is difficult in the real world. When this happens at Centre, it is momentary; you'll eventually find out that the friend you've been trying to contact has just been napping for 3 hours and not ignoring your text messages. The reparation is swift, and you can ease in the fact that there are people who have your back, all the time.
Not so true in the real world. It took me some time to understand this in the real world, because I had been so spoiled by the nature of Centre College. I didn't understand people that didn't invest in me like I had in them. People took advantage of it, whether knowingly or not.
After a few years though, it's all starting to make sense. I've since moved a little closer to home and started to realize - the Centre connection sticks with you. The people that I truly care about have experienced those true learning experiences, those slow Friday afternoons, the wild Saturday nights, and the dark and stormy days of doubt. And it's not that other people haven't experienced any of this - they just weren't around the same kind of people for those formative years of their lives. They didn't experience such a special place.
What was it about Centre that made life so special? During the lowest moments of my college career, I couldn't stand how much I loved it there. I spent a night on a futon in the Nevin apartment during the unofficially official hell week for my fraternity. There weren't any blankets, so I made a half-hearted blanket with the wool coat that I was wearing. I think I might have also been sleeping in business attire for a fraternity meeting earlier that night. I had homework running out my ears but I didn't care - I was going to make it to the end of that six weeks. I had to carry a notebook, a lighter, gum or mints, and at least 2 writing utensils at all times. I couldn't walk on the grass. And despite the loathing that my mind told me to feel, I loved my brothers, and I was going to make it. And that was that.
But what was it about that place? I like to think that everybody that goes to Centre experiences its special-ness in some way or another.
I hope that everyone had that feeling I got when walking away from a really good class. Mine were usually French or math classes when this happened - I'd leave class for lunch at Cowan and just couldn't get my mind off of what had just happened. Maybe just the thrill of learning with people that really wanted to learn. Sure, Centre created a competitive bunch of jerks when Dean's List came out at the end of the semester, but we learned. And yeah, everyone put on the facade of being a leader or being a jock or having it all together, but really, we're all just trying to make it in our own ways. When I was a freshman, there was an RA in my building that I started to get to know because he was in a fraternity that I was interested in joining. I found out that he was not only in a fraternity, but a member of the Student Judiciary, had a girlfriend, was doing two majors, and played intramural sports on the side. I remember thinking - "Man this guy has his life together! I wish I could be like him! Maybe in a few years I'll be in his shoes."
A few years went by and I looked back on that guy, who had since become one of my closest friends at Centre when I joined the same fraternity as him. By coincidence, I happened to be assigned to live in the same room that he lived in when I had so revered his status a few years prior (I had since joined the RA staff). I looked back on all of the things that I had thought were critical to success, and I realized - he absolutely did not have it together, and neither does anyone, for that matter.
I hope everyone got to experience the joy of a slow Friday afternoon on campus when the sun slowly made its way to the railroad tracks by the warehouse after a long week. We'd get Chinese food and hang out on the front porch of the house and just relax, because Friday nights at the Phi Tau house usually always sucked - there wasn't any fighting it. But it was okay because you could always find someone to play ridiculous 90s, early 00s jams in the chapter room with - you could always find someone just as weird as you to watch Mulan on an uncomfortable futon with - you could always find someone to go on a late night McDonalds or Taco Bell run with, and you didn't have to have drinks to enjoy that. I like to think that people at other colleges couldn't find people as weird as Centre students on a slow Friday night.
I hope everyone felt the energy of the houses on a night where everything just seemed to go right - you met at a party, took a picture together, got the phone number, the whole deal. I remember being on the outside of this during my freshman and sophomore years - I didn't know much of anything about girls and I was usually there to be the sober monitor. I didn't drink a drop of alcohol until I went abroad during the spring of sophomore year. When I turned 21, I started to question my views against drinking. I started slow, but I developed a taste for wine and eventually bourbon (it took me until after college to really like beer). Once things really got going during senior year, I made some mistakes, as alcohol usually inclines us to do. I'd say that I regret these things - except I don't. I don't regret gaining an understanding of how much is too much (though I definitely regretted it in the moment). I don't regret pushing it too far, because otherwise I wouldn't know my limit. I don't regret being pressured to take that extra shot, because I now know how to say no when I'm faced with the same situation. Centre somehow created this environment where everyone was looking out for everyone - let's be honest, the RAs like to party just as much as any other Centre student.
On the opposite end, I had some dark days at Centre. I had days where all I really wanted to do was hide in Grant basement and play piano. The anxiety of finding friends in Cowan, that upcoming test that you knew you'd have to humble yourself to the mercies of the professor and their office hours in order to pass (after formulating intelligent questions about the homework that seems to be in another language), being excluded from someone's dinner plans at Guady's (probably a blessing to your intestines in retrospect); these might have seemed trivial and insignificant at the moment, but we know how stressful and difficult these moments were.
But was that the extent of our worry? A little high-schoolish FOMO or fear of embarrassment on a test? Looking back on these worries, I would gladly spend a night solo on campus as a student or bomb an exam than worry about the real world.
I know that everyone didn't experience the things I'm talking about, but I really hope so. I look back on those four years that now seem so long ago, even when I'm only two years out, and I see such a different me than the little boy that moved into Caldwell House in the fall of 2008. I'm not really even sure when it happened - I realized that there were people just as weird as me and it stopped bothering me. After graduating from Centre, I learned something very quickly - trusting people to really care about you is difficult in the real world. When this happens at Centre, it is momentary; you'll eventually find out that the friend you've been trying to contact has just been napping for 3 hours and not ignoring your text messages. The reparation is swift, and you can ease in the fact that there are people who have your back, all the time.
Not so true in the real world. It took me some time to understand this in the real world, because I had been so spoiled by the nature of Centre College. I didn't understand people that didn't invest in me like I had in them. People took advantage of it, whether knowingly or not.
After a few years though, it's all starting to make sense. I've since moved a little closer to home and started to realize - the Centre connection sticks with you. The people that I truly care about have experienced those true learning experiences, those slow Friday afternoons, the wild Saturday nights, and the dark and stormy days of doubt. And it's not that other people haven't experienced any of this - they just weren't around the same kind of people for those formative years of their lives. They didn't experience such a special place.
I've recently begun watching House of Cards on Netflix. The main character, Frank Underwood, gives a speech at his alma mater upon having a library dedicated in his name. In a moment of nostalgia, he describes moments on campus as that of harmony - a brief moment where everything seems to align and create that musical magic that our ears are so intent to receive. While it may seem cliché, I've started to liken that emotion to my years at Centre - the time now seems so brief, but there's no denying that the moments were magical.
