It’s officially 58 days until graduation (as I write this) and I can safely say I have not an ounce of jittery nerves. I don’t feel the glow and enthusiasm of being a college graduate. In my mind, I am no different than I was before I got a degree. But that isn’t because I lack happiness for my graduation, it’s because, as unimaginable as it was for me before, my heart is still walking through the old halls of La Torre, climbing the stairs of la FAE as the bells chimed in the distance, crossing the chilly Lazaro on quiet afternoons. My soul hasn’t left la IUPI, and I don’t feel ready to call it back into my body.
If you were to tell me one year ago I would be sitting at my computer on a hot, spring night writing about my newfound love for my UPRRP, I would have guffawed. Laughed right out of my chair. Acquiring my degree, in never-ending yearly trials akin to a Harry Potter book, made me miserable. I couldn’t wait to step outside and never go back to a classroom. I wanted out fast. I daydreamed about stability and the peacefulness of knowing and sticking to a routine. I admit now, part of it was my fault. I grilled myself constantly to be present, whether it was for my family, my friends, or mostly college. Seeing a resting space on my schedule meant I wasn’t doing enough. So I never took breaks to ponder on my feelings of frustration and resentment, and I redirected it all to my college campus. Every mishap, delay, or closed door meant a relentless spew of hate toward my university. It even made my family concerned. But I would always assuage their worries. Even if I hated the place, I was going to finish. Lord knew I had spent too much money on this to just quit.
But even now I can safely say I didn’t truly hate it. A secret part within me, and well hidden I might say, felt pride in being a Jerezana. I was a Jerezana, one of the “pelús” – as people colloquially call us outside of campus. But more than pride for being recognized as part of the red and white gallito de pelea, I felt love and respect for the campus that built me.
It was in their buildings I learned every human emotion possible. These walls had seen me cry in abandonment, had seen me grow red in shame, had heard me scream in triumph. I had been the loneliest I’ve been in my life, and the most content too. La IUPI opened the doors for me to meet both sides of the coin of life.
I stumbled across truly horrible people, that hurt others due to being hurt themselves, and people who had so much love to give they felt like a welcoming embrace. I don’t talk to many of them to this day, and there’s nothing wrong with that. At the end of it, the memories and lessons they left behind are enough to honor them.
Ah yes. Memories. Even as I close my eyes I can recount so many good ones. From walking to 8 de Blanco in the scalding midday sun for a hearty lunch, to sitting on benches laid across friends watching the clouds pass, to see the sunset as I walked to the campus exit.
And reminiscing about this all makes me realize one big thing – I miss it terribly.
I miss waking up and propping my laptop for an early morning class. I miss talking to my friends about that one frustrating professor. I miss my silly, little student jobs across campus filled with lovely people giving me tips for the future. I miss the sweat, the tears – even the air smells different now that I’ve graduated. And it’s not for lack of doing – even with my small regrets, I can safely say I exhausted all of my college experience and did it all. But I wish, I truly wish, I could have been more appreciative of those years.
Without la IUPI, without its quirks, its lively student body and employees, and without the struggles and successes, I wouldn’t be me. I wouldn’t be resilient, courageous, spontaneous, and thirsty for an adventure. All because one University, one particular campus, dared me to break my mold.
That is what la IUPI represents for me now. That one rough guide who wouldn’t sugarcoat my struggles just to make me feel better. I admit it can sometimes feel like a-eat-or-be-eaten situation, but the lesson had to be learned. And that is what it’s all about, building your community, daring yourself to try new things, learning who to trust to help, and knowing who will be detrimental to you.
That is life after college, and thanks to la IUPI I can safely say I find myself on even ground to stand on to lead my life.
I have so much I could speak about. I could ramble about the most humble and goodhearted people I have met in my life -like a friend/coworker who gifted me a kitten just because I said I wanted one or that old lady who sat with me on the vegetable patch to give me words of encouragement upon seeing my lost gaze- but I can’t speak of it all. If I was to, I would never end. I can just remember their faces, the days, the sounds, the smells, the feelings, and how content I was to experience it all.
And dear reader, know this. For every struggle, stumble, and bad footing you may encounter right now, a stronger, assertive, and readier version of you is leading the life you have dreamt of in the future. It is these frustrations, these setbacks, and these triumphs that build your future. Just do me a favor, sit down, and listen to those bells from La Torre carry your heavy soul for a while. God knows how much I wish I could.