Editor’s Column: Coming Home



Nile Williams

Every semester it is pretty much the same routine. After months of assigned read­ings, homework, papers, projects, exams, sleep deprivation and maybe the occasional party or two, I am completely done with Colgate. After devoting so much physical, emotional and mental energy for an entire semester, finals week finally rolls around and there is nothing that I look forward to more than going home, forgetting all my responsibilities and laying on my couch mindlessly watching television for the first time in months. Finally leaving the stress and drama, which are unavoidable on a college campus, behind just for a little while.

After about two weeks at home, however, a curious thing begins to happen. In a strange way, I begin to miss all the things that I so desperately wanted to escape at Colgate. While I did not necessarily miss deadlines or doing a huge assignment from scratch the night before it was due, I did miss being intellectually challenged both by my classes and the people around me every day.

There is only so much of doing nothing I can take before I inevitably become bored. And while I, of course, did not miss the drama between friends, I did miss those exact people for the same reasons why I became friends with them in the first place.

They bring joy and laughter into my life every day. Being away from them, there is no way I could not miss that. I develop this fondness and yearning for Colgate and I want nothing more than to be back here.

Then final grades and book lists for the next semester are released. All of a sudden I am reminded of my responsibilities back at school and I begin to panic. I think about all that goes into having a successful semester and as quickly as I started to miss it I start to dread coming back to Colgate. I psych myself out thinking about all the work that I know I will have to do as soon as I get back. At least for a little while, I lose perspective and focus on all the negative and stressful things about being on campus.

Despite all of this though, as I make my way back to campus down Route 12 and pass by some of those familiar sites like Price Chopper, the blue house, and the Jug that act as markers indicating that I am close to home, all the anxieties I had begin to dissipate.

When I am back on campus and I see all those familiar and friendly faces that can manage to make me smile and laugh on even the worst of days, I am reassured that I really do love this place. I am more than willing to deal with all the bad stuff for all the amazing times and great people here. Soon enough, I begin to feel right at home.