One to go

Shea Rowell
Class of 2019

(5/2018) Every year, as I begin sorting the contents of my dorm room into boxes, totes, and plastic bags, I am amazed by the amount of belongings I have stashed in the nooks and crannies. Under the bed, tucked in the corner of drawers, at the very top of my closet, lies a photo of my friends and I at the grotto, a book from a first-semester class, a handmade birthday card from my roommate. It occurs to me, as I rifle through piles of the stuff, that the year has gone by in a blur. Was it really nine months ago that I carefully arranged those photos on my wall? As I study and schedule my final exams, I realize that it feels like yesterday that I was looking at a brand new syllabus for a brand new course, eager to launch into new literature (I’m both and English major and a nerd).

As grateful as I am to have one more year at my home, the Mount, I can’t help but realize that next year, nothing will be the same. The room where I do most of my studying will belong to someone else, my classes will be filled with new people, and I will feel like a new person myself. When I come to campus next fall, all the students who were here at the Mount when I arrived as a bright-eyed freshman will have graduated. I will envy the freshmen, who experience the newness of this place all over again, and who have it all ahead of them.

And while I will feel a longing for the memories made in the past, I will step into the following year as a fresh start. A chance to return for the last time to the places I love, and to learn more and more about the things I love. This is the gift the Mount has given me. In this past year, I have been in such a rush to finish that paper, to study for that exam, and to practice for that performance, that I sometimes found myself forgetting the love I have for every second of it. Junior year, they say, is notorious for being the most difficult year academically. My coursework this year did not disappoint. But through the stress and the workload, I learned a lot about myself.

I learned that I thrive under pressure. I meet deadlines effectively every time, and generally put forth my best effort no matter what the assignment is. I have, through exposure, deepened my passion for writing and literature, and more than anything, I have learned that there is a lot more to learn. My when-I-have-time-to-read book bucket list has doubled in size, as has my writing portfolio. I have found that my taste in literature, movies, and music has changed drastically. I now love characters I once would have hated, and cherish the harsh dissonance that only makes musical resolution even sweeter. I now find myself seeking out books, movies, and pieces that push boundaries and challenge the viewer/listener with ambiguity. It’s cliché, I know.

I have learned, painstakingly, that there is a limit to the number of things a person can do well simultaneously… and that the number is much lower that I thought! Therefore, a lesson I needed to learn was the importance of saying "no." Knowing my own limitations was half the battle; the other half was learning to value my own well-being enough not to over-extend.

My follow-up lesson was this: the experiences in life that I will remember and value the most are the ones that don’t involve straining for a good grade, or working to satisfy some ambition, but the ones that I do simply to do them. The moments when I get lost in the story of a book I’m reading in class; the ones when I am excited to write the conclusion to the paper I’ve worked on for days; mornings in Pangborn chapel with the bright morning-rays peeking through the stained glass; classes full of students itching to share their insights or indignations about a reading assignment; sunny days in the quad, sitting on a picnic blanket with a book; spontaneous trips to Frederick or Gettysburg; performances in the Delaplaine Theater with my friends by my side on stage. These are the moments I will never forget.

The last three years have taught me that college is worth much more than professional development. As a student worker at the Career Center, I can personally testify that the Mount does prepare its students to transition into the workforce. The skills we learn are worth their weight in gold—or rather, green. However, the Mount experience is worth much more than that. Here, I have made friends I will cherish for a lifetime, who have challenged me to become a better person in many ways. I have met professors and staff members who are mentors to me as I begin my professional and academic life. Here, I have learned how to manage my own life and needs – grocery shopping, cooking, cleaning and the like. I have grown independent, or at least more so, and confident in my own abilities.

As this year comes to a close, I feel grateful. The Mount has truly been a home to me in my three years here. My roommates, classmates, and professors form a sort of family, united in our love for the place that brought us all together. This year has challenged me, but through the challenges it has forced me to grow. It has taught me to be responsible for the welfare, not only for myself and my loved ones, but of my community as well.

The Mount has given me more than I ever knew it could. Each year, I emerge from final exams, tired and dreaming of summer, but also sentimental and a little sad to be leaving a great year behind. Three down… only one to go.

Read other articles by Shea Rowell