home(from)dartmouth, part II

I stared at the white linen tablecloth and idly turned my fork in my hand.
"What's wrong?" my mother inquired.
"Nothing... no, nothing." She looked at me. "Really, I'm fine, I just miss my friends."

I went on vacation to the Caribbean with my family this Spring Break. It was meant to be a sort of "last hurrah," the family vacation to culminate eighteen years of family vacations -- my parents' last chance to take me somewhere before I was a full-fledged adult, apartment and all. We've been going to the Caribbean since I wasn't yet a year old (in fact, there are pictures of my very pregnant mother standing ankle-deep in the Atlantic Ocean). My house is decorated with countless artifacts from our trips; our common vocabulary filled with references to the places we been, the adventures we took; when I was little, the voices of my mother and me would fill the house with Caribbean songs. We've always had a wonderful time on our excursions, just the three of us.

And yet, this time, it felt different. I wanted more than just the Three Monroes. I missed eating meals with different people, the passing hello's and lingering conversations that you can't help but fall into walking across campus or through a dining hall. I missed talking until 3:00 am, going out and dancing, the little adventures that happen every day.

Coming back to campus after break was just what I'd hoped it'd be: wonderful. I was set to arrive at around 12:45 on Sunday; my best friend told me he wasn't getting in until 10:00 that night. And yet, as the bus pulled into the stop by the green, there he was, sitting at the bus station, grinning for having fooled me so well. I ran into everyone I wanted to see, and everyone seemed positively thrilled to be back. I ate with people I knew and people I'd just met; I talked to everyone; I felt perfectly at home every time I turned my doorknob from the hallway.

But by the end of Winter Term, it was easy to take those things for granted; to wish for a meal with my family or my house in Maryland. It takes each to appreciate the other: Dartmouth is an incredible place, but incredible can become the norm if you don't step back and spend some time away every once in a while. Continuing a tradition with my family (something that never changes) but approaching it in a new way showed me how much I'd changed. But that's what's supposed to happen -- you'll change at Dartmouth. You'll find that you like and even need new things, and that it becomes easy to let go of old habits and necessities. And this change doesn't stay within the boundaries of campus -- it stays with you wherever you go. But, because it's Dartmouth, it'll always be a change for the better.