This morning as I drove into work, lions on rollerblades threw candy at me. It’s Welcome Week on campus so all the new students are moving in, and I guess throwing candy at them through open car windows is a display of endearment. Didn’t the lions—our school mascot—see my name tag though?! I’m not a student!! And I couldn’t help wondering if some of the parents are thinking …great. We’re about to spend lots of money on our son’s education so that next year he can make of fool of himself on rollerblades in a lion suit.
I watched as hundreds of student volunteers unloaded freshman belongings—you know, papason chairs purchased at Pier 1 with the student discount, mini-fridges, irons, stackable shelves for closets—from the back of SUVS. Parents watched in amazement and pleasure—dad got out of trekking up three flights of stairs with Susy’s suitcases. The freshman watched in horror as their stuff was being carried into their dorm and then their room where a perfect stranger awaited. Who are these weird people, and why are mom and dad leaving me with them?! And the weird people are all wearing bright T-shirts and dancing to super loud music.
Other volunteers directed campus tours. Adult staff hosted parent tables to answer parental questions—and provide support. There was food and balloons and lots of traffic-directing. Tables of watermelon and water bottles sat in front of all the dorms. It was loud and energetic and fun.
While in one of the dorms (I was walking around with a photographer I hired to capture some of these fun things I speak of), I chatted with a little boy. He’s 8. His sister, he told me, "is moving far far away from home. She’s not going to be sleeping in her room anymore." I asked, "So how long will it take you to drive here and visit her?" He pondered it… "oh, about 10 or 15 minutes." I thought, C’mon mom, that is not far away.
As I was leaving campus, I saw a freshman guy standing awkwardly at the doors, as if he wasn’t quite sure where to go or what to do. "Can I help you find something?" I asked. "Uh, no. I think I’ve gotten all the things I need. I have my I.D. I have my books. I’m checked in. I got my stuff from safety and security." There were a few other things he listed off nervously. His hands were full of different nametags, I.D.s, papers. Then he looked at me seriously and asked if that was it? Was there anything else he needed or should do? And I’m thinking to myself, well, I’m the editor of the school’s magazine. I don’t really know squat about what you should or shouldn’t be doing. But instead I smiled and said confidently, "Nope. I think you’re good to go. Just have fun." He seemed comforted, and I walked away hoping beyond hope that he doesn’t need to go get the key to his room or something.
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