Helllllooooo again! Forgive me for not posting very often but I’ve just been so busy since being back at school. Today I thought I’d talk about freshman (seeing as though they just arrived at Gettysburg two days ago). This being my sophomore year means it’s my first year really getting to see the freshman from an outside perspective. I finally understand how stupid I looked and sounded in those first few weeks of school. My friends and I have already witnessed freshman do a lot of funny and embarrassing things since we’ve been back. For example trying to use their ID to swipe out of the gym, saying “he asked me if I was a junior but I had my lanyard with me” (FYI, he knew you weren’t a junior, we know everyone, it’s a small school), and not yet understanding the concept of choosing your table in Servo before getting your food so you don’t have to aimlessly wander to find your friends. Even though all these things are very funny to me now, at the same time I can’t blame them. I mean, they’re new, this is a brand new, scary experience for them and, like everyone, they just need time to adjust (though this adjustment period does cause all the upperclassmen to have to endure chaotic and confused surroundings). They’re new, they’re cute, and eventually they’ll just seem like classmates just like everyone else. We can’t hate them because we are them, just a little more experienced, that’s all.
But even still, the arrival of the freshman has reminded me of a poem I wrote a few months back. It was a reflection on my childhood and my life now. I wanted it to be a direct comparison so some of you may notice that the stanzas have the same number of lines and that each line has the same number of syllables as it’s partner line in the other stanza. I also tried to use a lot of consonance and assonance and repetition. The reasoning behind all of this structure was to portray the fact that even though I am now 18 (at the time when I wrote this) I still reflect that little girl on the swing set.
Reflecting on Then
A little house with blue shutters.
A tree not too tall
but seeming as though it touched the sky.
A slightly rusted play set
with a swing that had the power to,
reach the top of the tree.
A little dorm with blue accents.
A world not too wide
but seeming as though it touches beyond.
A slightly rattled young girl
with a step that has the power to,
reach the top of the world.
This poem was an embodiment of my experience as a freshman, so it only seems appropriate to apply it to the freshman now. They may seem annoying and silly, but they too have the power to one day reach the top of the world. So freshman, I appreciate you.
From me for you,