STOP! And breathe
Ally Klein
Issue date: 2/10/09 Section: Columns
There are a lot of things we take for granted at Denison.
I'm not talking about academics, clubs or career services like many a Denisonian article promotes.
I'm talking about friends.
When else are you ever going to have the chance to live within less than a mile's radius of all of your closest friends?
Most likely never.
One thing I realized when I was abroad is that we take this place for granted.
Coming from Denison where we eat, drink, sleep and breathe with friends and familiar faces and where we are so busy that if we find a minute to ourselves we think something must be wrong, I was faced with overwhelming amounts of "me time" - little work and absolutely no hurry.
I didn't go abroad on a big program. There were only four of us living in the middle of an unfamiliar city where we knew nobody.
It's strange to think that you can feel the most alone in a city full of more people than you could ever count.
I'm a people-person. I love the comfort of having friends and family close by.
Surprisingly, I learned how to enjoy my own solitude. And I mean that in the most non-depressing way possible.
At school, we're used to seeing familiar faces everywhere and having a to-do list that is near impossible to ever complete.
Last semester, abroad, I started off with zero familiar faces and nothing to do but explore. Don't get me wrong. I loved it. At first, however, I just didn't know what to do with myself.
If this were to happen at school, it's Denisonian instinct to go down the hall and bum around on a friends futon or meet up at the 'snatch for a pizza bagel. But there was no Bandersnatch and something told me the old, almost senile, couple down the hall - clearly not happy about having loud American students in the building - weren't too keen on hanging out.
I thought this must be what life after college is like. I had never realized how much I took for granted always having my best friends around. And now I am so thankful.
I'm not talking about academics, clubs or career services like many a Denisonian article promotes.
I'm talking about friends.
When else are you ever going to have the chance to live within less than a mile's radius of all of your closest friends?
Most likely never.
One thing I realized when I was abroad is that we take this place for granted.
Coming from Denison where we eat, drink, sleep and breathe with friends and familiar faces and where we are so busy that if we find a minute to ourselves we think something must be wrong, I was faced with overwhelming amounts of "me time" - little work and absolutely no hurry.
I didn't go abroad on a big program. There were only four of us living in the middle of an unfamiliar city where we knew nobody.
It's strange to think that you can feel the most alone in a city full of more people than you could ever count.
I'm a people-person. I love the comfort of having friends and family close by.
Surprisingly, I learned how to enjoy my own solitude. And I mean that in the most non-depressing way possible.
At school, we're used to seeing familiar faces everywhere and having a to-do list that is near impossible to ever complete.
Last semester, abroad, I started off with zero familiar faces and nothing to do but explore. Don't get me wrong. I loved it. At first, however, I just didn't know what to do with myself.
If this were to happen at school, it's Denisonian instinct to go down the hall and bum around on a friends futon or meet up at the 'snatch for a pizza bagel. But there was no Bandersnatch and something told me the old, almost senile, couple down the hall - clearly not happy about having loud American students in the building - weren't too keen on hanging out.
I thought this must be what life after college is like. I had never realized how much I took for granted always having my best friends around. And now I am so thankful.
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