4 years ago, I thought May 8th, 2016 would never come. Now it’s 3 days away,
staring me in the face. I graduate college in about 84 hours. Like what?
I’ve been feeling stereotypically college nostalgic, so here
we go.
They say college is the best four years of your life. It
wasn’t. It was more like the most intense 4 years of my life. It was drenched
in emotion. My college experience contains some of the top moments in my life,
and some that were absolutely rock-bottom.
Let’s start at the beginning. To be honest, I wasn’t
convinced I wanted to go to Coe. My college decision was frantic and rushed,
and for an indecisive person like me, that’s the worst way to have a college
search. My spring semester of 12th
grade had me booked every weekend between speech and debate tournaments and my
lead part in the musical, so visiting colleges out-of-state (AKA most colleges
to which I had applied) was not as feasible as I thought it would be. Two of
the out-of-state college visits I had planned (apart from Coe) were cancelled
due to blizzard road closures. I was not about to commit to a school I hadn’t
visited, so my college options essentially boiled down to a) a school in
Colorado, which Adventurous Angela knew she didn’t want and b) Coe.
That’s not to say I didn’t
want to go to Coe. My visit was fantastic: My hosts were helpful, campus
was friendly, and being a Kohawk felt like a great fit. It’s just to say that
my heart wasn’t 100% invested when I started college in August. I had always
pictured myself at a big school, and I kind of liked the idea of anonymity. I
wanted to be a leader, but I wanted to do it on my own terms. I wanted to lead
in ways that fit me better than your typical “President of X club.” This did
not meet the typical Coe model, at least in the way I initially saw it. Everyone
else wanted to step up into leadership their first week; I wanted some time to
figure out who college-Angela was apart from High-School-Angela before I sold
my time to xyz activities. It left me feeling like even after a week on campus,
I was already behind--I was already failing. It also left me feeling like I
didn’t have friends--which, while that was ultimately my own fault, was still
painful. Everyone was suddenly joining sororities and volunteering and I was
still like “Wait so where do I buy my books?”
Another factor in my not-getting-involved-immediately was
that I knew wanted to dedicate myself to academics. It’s nerdy, but I’ll be
real: I love learning. I was excited
to step into a world where I suddenly had so many more resources with which to
learn. I was thrilled to be in a place where I could take courses like Latin
and sociology and art history. These subjects had not been available to me
previously. Learning takes time, and I
had already discovered that it’s so much more satisfying when you can master a
topic, not just get by for the test. I
didn’t want to suck up all my time doing things that kept me from achieving
that sense of mastery.
Basically that meant that my first semester of college was
pretty disappointing. Unbeknownst to me when I planned my courses, that first
semester of college was infinitely easier than my last 2 years of high school.
(That wasn’t because Coe isn’t academically rigorous—it is—I just happened to
be really college-ready and to accidentally pick several “easy” classes.) I had
three adjunct professors that semester (again, not AT ALL typical of Coe) that
made it difficult to get connected with academic departments. I had budgeted so
much time to coursework in this new world of learning, but I didn’t feel
challenged. AND I didn’t feel like I had friends—at least, not as many as
everyone else did. I felt like an outsider on a small college campus where
outsiders don’t exist.
Things got better with time. I started to get more connected
in the second semester, taking classes in the honors program and in psychology
(now one of my majors). I still wasn’t that involved outside of my job in the
writing center, but I did feel challenged. I settled in with my main friend
group, who I can now say absolutely were the greatest part of my college
experience. Then came the death of Joel. He was there, and then he was
gone. Our entire college community was
heartbroken. I loved him—we all loved him. Three years later, I’m still
processing the fact that he’s not here anymore.
Out of our friend group, I was probably the furthest from Joel—we were
friends, but not best friends – so I took it as my responsibility to be “the
strong one.” Because of that, I don’t think the pain of his death fully hit me
in those months after it occurred. I think it haunted me instead, creeping into
the moments when I would least expect it. I didn’t let myself stop to grieve.
My routines became more stringent, my efforts to keep it together even
stronger. I still don’t think I can write about how exactly Joel’s death
affected me; I still don’t think I fully know. At the end of that semester, I
went on a May Term to Paris, where I finally made my dream of traveling
internationally come true.
The fall semester of my sophomore year was probably my
favorite semester of college. I had been hired as an RA, a job that I loved and
continued to love for the rest of my college career. I could finally lead on
terms that matched who I was as a person. I joined a sorority that surrounded
me with loving sisters. I also started taking classes for my English major, and
I was head-over-heels for the subject. I loved going to class and oogling over
Mary Wroth and John Donne. I had a car finally, and while I was scared to drive
basically anywhere (I was the passenger in an awful and terrifying accident
during my first year, which could be an entirely different post), the car gave
me a newfound sense of freedom. The sunshine seemed brighter, Autumn never
seemed more beautiful than on Coe’s trees, and life was truly good.
Spring 2014, again, took me on a roller coaster. For a girl
who really loves her sunshine, Iowa winters are hard. I’m sensitive to light
and “winter blues” are a real thing. My class load was difficult and I started
a long journey of mental health struggles. Suddenly I had everything I wanted
in my college experience, but I couldn’t enjoy it. And Joel was on my mind
every moment. I also felt unimportant. Even though I was finally proud of myself, I didn’t feel like the college
community saw me as valuable. Looking back objectively, I wasn’t doing anything
spectacular, really, and I can understand why I wasn’t Coe’s star student. For
sophomore Angela, though, who had been working her butt off and trying to make
a meaningful mark on the community, feeling unvalued (on top of the mental
health struggles) felt devastating. It wasn’t a bad semester; it just wasn’t a
good one.
Then Fall 2014. Oh boy. By far the worst 4 months of my
life. While I could feel myself sort of losing touch with the “positive
emotions” side of the emotional spectrum in the spring, it was completely gone
by the fall. I felt hopeless and utterly alone. I distinctly remember looking
out my window on move-in day and wondering how I would make it through the
semester. Three of my best friends were studying abroad, which certainly
exacerbated the loneliness. It didn’t help that it was by far my hardest
semester academically: all writing intensive classes with the hardest professors
in my disciplines. I was consistently sleeping 4 or fewer hours per night, and
my eating habits were hit-or-miss. I’ve
always been taught that you pick yourself up, that you keep going, that you
persevere through all odds. While I continued living my everyday life with a façade,
mostly accomplishing the things I needed to, my inner world was shattered. I
didn’t think things could get worse, but they did. I spiraled down until crying
was as normal as brushing my teeth. When I wasn’t crying, I was so anxious that
I physically felt like I couldn’t breathe.
The good part of that semester was that I have never in my
life felt so grateful. I needed help desperately, and I got it. I started
seeing a counselor regularly, paid for by Coe. My professor invited me to her
house for Thanksgiving, a gesture that especially during that time meant so
much more than she’ll ever realize. That was the first time in a very long time
that I had felt happy. My advisor helped me figure out how to rearrange my
academics so I could focus on getting better. Another professor let me take an
incomplete in her class until I was back to homeostasis. I’ve never received so
many kind emails just to ask if I was okay.
Coe salvaged what was left of Angela and helped piece her back together.
I will forever be thankful to Coe for that.
Then I went to Belfast, Northern Ireland, for the adventure
of a lifetime. I tell people that year 21 was the worst (fall) and the best
(spring) year of my life. My mental health battle scars left me with a knowledge
of how beautiful happiness is, and I was determined to soak in every moment.
Belfast, for me, represents a time of feel-it-in-your-bones healing. For the
first time in my life, I felt carefree. I felt like I could stay out until 3 AM
and hang out with my friends on a Tuesday night. I felt like I could get on a
bus to who-knows-where and get totally, wonderfully lost. I had time to read
books for fun and talk to local Belfasters in coffee shops and to cook food
that I enjoyed. Every day presented a new challenge and a new opportunity to
prove to myself that yes, actually, I AM capable. I had time and head space to
work on a project that would become my senior honors thesis, probably the
accomplishment I am most proud of from my entire college career. There were
certainly low points in Belfast, but the rainbows were always worth the rain. I
was absolutely the person I wanted to be.
And now, friends, senior year. I don’t quite have the same
hindsight on this year as on the others. It’s been pretty good? It was hard to
adjust back after N. Ireland, but not that hard. Mostly it was just hard to
adjust back to having so many responsibilities. I achieved a pretty good sense
of balance in the fall—a good combo of work and play. Spring got a little harder.
I got in a car accident in December (coincidentally, on my way home for winter
break… the same occasion as the car accident my first year) that left me
feeling constantly anxious and afraid. It’s going to take a long time before I
can feel comfortable in the car again, particularly on interstates, but we’ll
get there one car ride at a time. After I started to finally cope with that, I
went into overdrive on my thesis and wrote 60 pages in a month. It was
exceptionally hard but exceptionally rewarding. It was exactly what I wanted to
be working on. (Also FUN FACT my thesis defense was on Flunk Day, with true
Angela Kettle luck). I had a FABULOUS internship at a museum downtown that
connected me with the community in new ways, fostered friendships with awesome
museum professionals, and that helped me discover how passionate I am about
community-based learning. Pretty darn cool.
Mostly, my year has been rewarding. I’ve seen a lot of my
hard work come to fruition. I successfully defended my thesis. I applied for a
Fulbright in September, which I never-ever thought I would get, but SURPRISE, I
got it. That award will allow me to live in Turkey for 9 months and get paid to
teach English at a university after graduation. I’m excited to have a plan and
a new challenge. I’ll graduate with a 3.979 GPA, which is one one-thousandth of
a point off summa cum laude, but close enough in my book.
There are things I should have done differently. I worked
really hard at Coe—really, really, really hard. But sometimes I didn’t work for
the right things. I should have volunteered more, and I should have been more
involved in the Cedar Rapids community. I regret that I didn’t figure that out
before now. I get the most work done when I hyperfocus, which is good for my
work but not always good for my relationships (or my health). I can get so
sucked into whatever I am working on that I lose a sense of perspective about
what’s actually important in life. I wish I would have gotten to know more
people more closely. I don’t enjoy small talk, and sometimes getting past that
acquaintance-to-friendship barrier feels like Mt. Everest to me. I wish I would
have tried a little harder to summit that peak.
There are also things I did right. I engaged in my classes
and my work, leading to a really meaningful academic experience. I spent my
free time in Residence Life, where I really think I helped people. I persevered
through obstacles that came my way, and most importantly, I got help when I
needed it. I learned about privilege and started asking myself critical
questions about how our world works and what I can do to make it better. I
learned about privilege and started recognizing the ways it manifests in my
life, and the ways I can use it for good. I developed a few close friendships
that I know will last a lifetime. I challenged myself to make my dream of
living abroad come true.
Graduating is bittersweet. Coe made me the person I am
today, and though I wasn’t convinced when I first enrolled, Coe was 100% the
place for me. I am leaving with new perspectives, new experiences, and new
paths. Not four years, for life.
