Campus is a-changin’. Jesus Christ on a stick, I just got here. Deep breaths.

Every time I see something about some change happening here, I generally roll my eyes really hard because it’s 2023 and we’re still in the middle of the “2018-2020″ phase of this whole “master plan” they’ve got for campus. Thanks, COVID. Thanks, recession. And thanks, university administration, for your persisting zeal, which is fascinating to observe. The shiny new map of campus they plastered up on the first floor of the library has their projected business building on it, even though I have seen “it” from a distance multiple times and “it” is nowhere close to even being considered an unfinished building. I’ll be able to watch the construction up close next semester since it’ll be right next to Verder Hall, where I’ll be cooping up without a roommate or AC. I literally thought that building was supposed to be demolished this year.

The final result of Big Business Hall (actually Crawford) is supposed to look something like this, with creepy prison-drawbridge bunker White Hall apparently totally unchanged to its left:

Tree City, amirite? I love how quaint campus is.

Anger inducing sterile boring grassy fields aside, a headline from our own Kent Wired about campus evolution caught my eye in that it was very distinct from any superficial flex of size, power, or fleeting modernity. It was actually based on changing the curriculum itself. It was about the First Year Experience course that help the adorable freshmen-I should know-acclimate them to campus. Next semester, they’ll be rebranding it as Flashes 101, which I’ll admit is a pretty adorable name.

The thing that sticks me out about this new version of the class is that, this time around, students will be able to choose between sections that are specific to their area of study, like the section I had to take, or general sections that include peers with a mix of interests. In my experience, being grouped with students within my major’s college ended up only benefiting me on a personal level, not a social one. My FYE professor was actually the dean of the college my major was located within, and it was really beneficial having such direct access to her and her enthusiasm as I considered different options of what it even was I wanted to do with my education.

I did not have the same lasting effect with any of my peers who were taking the class with me, however. That’s no one’s fault, but it does confirm my belief that defining people by and grouping them together based on one loose and pretty much non-defining factor doesn’t mean they’re all going to be best friends forever. Facts of life, you know. I also ended up changing my major twice last semester, though I was located within the same college every time. Had I been even more questioning and veered off into another college or area of discipline entirely, I might have felt like I didn’t belong alongside everyone else.

Part of what excited me most about college was meeting people different from myself. And by being fascinated by what made people different from the rest, I was able to find the people I’ve clicked with most so far. I hate interacting with humans, but when you find someone you’re actually excited to allot time out of your schedule for, it’s the best feeling in the world. And then maybe on another day you overhear someone in your Media, Power and Culture class say that he doesn’t pay any attention to the news or politics and that he only pays attention to football, and you can’t believe how anyone could live life like that. And it makes you feel a little more confident in a part of yourself you might’ve questioned in a world gone mad.

College is inherently fucked up, and it can be oddly isolating when schedules don’t match up or disintegrate entirely. But that’s why it works. It gives you the superficial comforts of “You Belong Here” posters and tag along friends from high school (unless you’re me), and then it throws you into the arena of self reliance, self confidence, and self advocating. You will find community and solidarity, and you will also find spontaneity and the people who you strive to be the exact opposite of in every way possible. And the beautiful thing is that here at Kent State, we all have our own ways of being “the worst kind of people we harbor in America”, as per one Governor James Rhodes. The good and the bad are definitely both teasing away at my comfort zone at any given moment. The mindless bus rides, the hard walks through rain and snow, the late night study sessions, the frat parties, the emphasis on legacy, the gentrification. The supposed fact that downtown apparently needs two goddamn smoothie bowl places for some reason. Humanity in all of its facets is at both its dimmest and  its brightest in College Town USA, and that will never cease to wow me.

College is all I wanted it to be and everything I didn’t think to dread all at once, and I just might love that.