Kylie Grunsfeld, Opinions & Humor Editor
As of this August, I am officially an upperclassman at VCU, which comes with a lot of perks — I can make my way around campus with my eyes closed and I no longer have to hurry down several flights of stairs at midnight because the student housing fire alarms have gone off once again.
When I started college, I was immensely comforted by the fact that there was so much guidance available for the transition. Everybody and their mother had words of wisdom to offer about leaving home for the first time. I cried many nights my first semester, certain I would never be able to top the memories made with friends that were now scattered around the country, but I knew that was natural. I was told it would happen. No one could blame me for feeling unmoored.
Freshman year is an extremely well-documented period in the lives of college students. When you see yourself so frequently reflected in media, it is much easier to believe people when they tell you that you are doing nothing wrong.
However, I have found that there are far fewer resources available to guide you once you are no longer new to the school.
VCU offers many events and opportunities aimed at new students — orientation, Weeks of Welcome, Summer Scholars, a mandatory Introduction to the University course, dorm activities hosted by RAs, the Student Organization and Volunteer Opportunity Fair and so on. I am more than glad that new students have dedicated places to engage with the VCU community. But what happens when these activities no longer become available to you? When you have moved out of student housing and live on your own?
At a certain point, you are more or less left stranded. Any feelings of loneliness or isolation you may have are no longer a topic of conversation. Instead, they are now issues to figure out on your own. The support that was so present and well-advertised that first year dies down. You wonder, am I supposed to have it figured out by now? Is there something wrong with me because I do not? Those who corroborate your experience feel few and far between.
It is hard enough to make community when you are thrust into a new environment where everyone is scrambling for the same thing. It is even harder when you are under the impression that many — if not most — people have already found their communities. Nobody wants to be the first to admit that they are still struggling after the dust of freshman year has settled.
The truth is, clubs can be remarkably cliquey. Friend groups that have been going strong for months, even years, are tricky to infiltrate. I understand how hard it is to put yourself out there because I refused to do it for a long time. I understand it is not always as easy as just walking up and asking someone to hang out — some people are simply not wired that way.
What we need is to create more campus-wide conversation around the fact that people acclimate at different rates. Just knowing that other people feel similarly could be enough to, at the very least, take away some of the shame that comes with feeling behind.
I know it would take it away for me.
The struggles of finding belonging both at school and in the city do not end after freshman year. If anything, it gets even harder to find your place the older you get. It is vital that upperclassmen do not feel cast aside once a new batch of fresh-faced students join the community. As the window of opportunity seems to close, we deserve more support, not less.