Photo provided by ohio.edu
Ohio was never on my list of places I wanted to visit. It wasn’t like I knew anything about it, and I didn’t really care to. It was a joke when my dad first told me they had a great journalism program, something I thought he said to bait my mom.
I’m originally from a city between Baltimore and Washington, D.C. Growing up surrounded by excitement, politics and wealth made my life a never-ending party. Honestly, I was spoiled beyond my wildest dreams, and it didn’t strike me as such until I started applying to colleges.
I was perpetually nervous about getting into schools – by the end of my junior year of high school I had 10 schools as potential schools. Around that time, I knew I needed figure out what I wanted from life, and from college specifically (and my parents said that was too many schools to apply to). So, at the ripe old age of 16, I made a map for my life.
In life, I was going to write about politics, possibly broadcast, and live in a city. I was going to find a magical, rent-controlled apartment on the East Coast (preferably New York, maybe D.C.) and live alone with my animal (a hamster in my 16 year-old mind,) until/if I met someone. The point of the matter was, in my grand plan I’d end up in a city, so for now I wanted a town where everyone was like me.
I had never not lived in a city, so this quaint college town atmosphere that I decided I wanted was daunting. I can only imagine my parents’ thoughts when I told them that until I turned 21, I wanted to live with a majority of students.
I narrowed my grand list from 10 to five, and started college visits: some self-guided, but the majority from tour guides. By mid-March of my senior year, I narrowed my search down to Ohio University and West Virginia University (they offered me an incredible scholarship).
My mom, ever so practical, wanted West Virginia University to be *the school.* It was cheaper, and closer, and West Virginia borders Maryland, so mentally it seemed like less of a separation. As the day that I’d visit Ohio University drew nearer, I became more and more apathetic towards this tiny town in the middle of nowhere that didn’t have an original name. By the time the day finally arrived, I was set on hating it, despite the fact that my pro-con list put Ohio well in the lead.
My dad drove me when he got off work, and to say that it was exhausting would have been an understatement. I think I fell asleep in the middle of giving him directions more than once in the six hour car ride. We got to our hotel and immediately passed out, only to wake up five hours later for OHIO Up Close day.
We were not pleased about waking up what felt like seconds after our heads hit the pillow, but digressed to do so anyway. We even made a point to get there 15 minutes early to find coffee, a staple in every college visit, and it struck me. The campus was breathtaking.
It was raining, which isn’t uncommon in April, and it gave OU an unfair advantage because I absolutely adore the rain. But, even imagining that it wasn’t raining, it was incredible. The trees sprung up everywhere on College Green, and the rain plopped against the brick and mortar pathways that lined everything. The soggy smell carried incredible traces of coffee and sweets that made me spend a good chunk of my visit looking for a candy shop.
The program was spectacular. I’m sure most people in Ohio know about the journalism school at OU, so I won’t bore you with the alumni that talked or how the director made a huge point of how close the staff was to the students.
I also won’t talk about how everyone was friendly, and how excited my dad was when someone yelled “Go O’s” in Baker (The Baltimore Orioles are crazy important where we’re from). I won’t even touch on how excited we were to find decent coffee at Fluff, or that Union Street Diner was a treat for our exhausted, starving, drenched bodies.
When I stepped on the bricks for the first time, OU felt like home. It was a calming, nostalgic feeling, which made me realize, I belonged here. It wasn’t a huge out of body experience, it was just right. My body felt like a puzzle piece in the giant jigsaw that is OU. I quietly observed everything I could about the vivacious town and got excited for the fall.
Months later, when my mom and I packed up for the horrid six hour car ride, she asked me what had changed, and why I was so okay with being so far away now; it seemed ineffable. Ohio University was just right. I still grumble about walking up Jeff Hill, and huff about how Boyd Dining Hall is more beautiful now than it was when I lived in James two years ago, but I couldn’t imagine going anywhere else. The people, the academics, the campus. It’s just OU, and it’s just perfect.
James 4th floor playing in the snow in 2013.