I’d never heard of this school until a few years ago when my mom pointed it out to me after a ND football game. The swirly gold letters that read “Saint Mary’s College” instantly piqued my interest as we passed by, however, and I nagged my dad to turn around in heavy post-football traffic so we could drive through the campus.
Everything about it was picture perfect: from the Hogwarts-esque buildings, to the yellow and red hues of the trees, to the seemingly domesticated squirrels that bustled about. I knew I wanted to call this place home someday–that is until my mom mentioned to me that this was an all girls school. No boys? No, thank you.
The summer before my senior year of high school came and Saint Mary’s wasn’t even on my radar. “Hail to the Victors” became my most played song on iTunes, and fantasies of being decked out in Maize and Blue gear frequented my daydreams. I was ready to declare myself Ann Arbor bound until I found out that my “Go Michigan!” phase wasn’t unique, and most of my other classmates planned on going there, too.
Next I jumped on the Indiana University bandwagon, and then DePauw’s, and then University of Maryland and UNC. My college search was like Facebook stalking a super cute guy: everything looked great at first (Perfect hair? Check. The abs of a Greek god? Double check!) until discovering that his favorite TV show is Family Guy.
One day, as I was deleting the flurry of college emails that every high school senior knows all too well, I came across an advertisement that made me do a double take. The subject line?
“We promise you discovery: the discovery of yourselves, the discovery of the universe, and your place in it.”
All Belles know this famous quote, and I’m not even sure why I bothered typing it out. As cliché as it may sound, it really stuck with me and made me rethink applying. I need a college that promises to challenge me intellectually and spiritually. I need a college that is dedicated to a strong sense of community and tradition. I need a college where I can grow and pursue my passions. My college search took me across the country, and yet, the perfect choice was right in front of me. (And by right in front of me I mean literally; I live thirty minutes away from South Bend.)
I completely dismissed this school during my summer-before-senior-year college search because my freshman year never-been-kissed self mindlessly “swiped left” because of the whole no boys thing. But Saint Mary’s, I’ve come to realize, is much more than an all girls school in the Midwest, and college is more than meeting boys. (But if it was about meeting boys, Notre Dame is right across the street.)
Although some of my high school friends question my college choice, and I’ve had to defend myself with “No, I don’t think I’m crazy for picking a school so close,” and “Yes, you heard me right. All girls,” I’ve come to this conclusion:
Being a smick is like being a marine: you’ve either got it, or you don’t.