Driving through Washington Street on way up to my apartment, my heart swells for the freshmen moving into the dorms. Their faces are pink from unloading their cars and moving a lifetime of belongings up countless flights of stairs. Their parents hover close by, juggling groceries and papers, trying their best to be as helpful as possible. The expression on each of the new students' face is the same: a perfect blend of excitement and absolute fear. This is it: they are officially college students. Virginia Tech is no longer just a school; it is their new home. As I reluctantly begin my final year at Tech, I envy the adventure that the freshman class is only beginning.
I am immediately brought back to my own move-in four years ago. I was a mess of anticipation and apprehension. The summer months leading up to the fall semester were devoted to designing the perfect dorm room. By the end of the summer I had accumulated most of the dorm line from Target and a few other accoutrements that I was convinced would make my new home at Tech a Mecca of happiness and comfort. I imagined other freshman like myself flocking to my room. "Where did you find that delightful bedspread and matching picture frame?" they'd ask as they made themselves comfortable on my shag area rug. "And those extra-long sheets are heaven!" Once I began to move in I realized how foolish I had been. I had been so obsessed with collecting things for my dorm room I had forgotten to think about actual dorm life.
For one, despite proudly fitting everything into the back of my father's SUV, I quickly realized once I arrived to my room in Lee Hall that there was no possible way to fit everything in my itty-bitty room. That didn't stop my family and me from unloading everything and making endless trips up and down the stairs, only to repack the car again with items that didn't make the cut. So long set of four coffee mugs and bye-bye nightstand. Despite over-packing it didn't protect me from my most fatal mistake and overlooking the absolute most important accessory of a room: a fan. Once I was all moved in I didn't care how homey and cozy my new room was, all I could think about was that the fifth floor of Lee hall was as hot as Hades. Of course, I tried my best to make the most of it and spent time introducing myself to my new hall mates and meeting up with people I knew from home in the dining halls, but the thought of returning to my 100 degree room was not a pleasant one. After all, those months of preparing my new home didn't feel like a home at all, it felt like a sauna in the middle of Tahiti.
My first memories of Tech are sweaty ones, full of showers after class and then again before bed to cool down. I remember trying not to faint while I blow-dried my hair and pausing to catch any hint of a breeze. My roommate and I would sometimes stand in front of our open minifridge for a few moments of relief. I loved Tech and all of the wonderful opportunities ahead of me, but I would get pangs of homesickness when I would think about the comforts of home, mainly central air conditioning. I would gaze longingly at the students commuting to campus from a more civilized place with controlled temperatures and showers that didn't involve flip-flops. Not that I didn't love dorm life (I actually liked it so much that in the end I did it twice) but let's just say that the first few months weren't exactly a breeze (literally).
I liked freshman year at Tech; football games were a blast and I couldn't get enough of the smoothies from Owens. Even things with my roommate were going great. However, I just couldn't imagine a time when Tech would begin to feel like a home.
Of course there wasn't a specific event or passage of time before Blacksburg became a home for me, but eventually that is exactly what it became. In fact, Tech became even more than a home for me. It is the place where I met some of my best friends, where I discovered what I wanted to do with my life, a place where I learned more about myself than any textbook could have taught. When I look at the fresh faces entering our community this year I can't help but smile when I think of the rollercoaster ride the next four years is going to be for them.
I catch one of the new students staring at me longingly, probably noticing the commuter tag dangling from my mirror as they make their way from the cage back to their dorm. I can sense them all willing me with their eyes to give them a ride, take them anywhere with less than 90 degrees heat.