By: Ronan Lynch
Four years ago, I sat at an empty desk staring hard at my reflection in the mirror. Tired, a thin layer of condensation had coated my glasses like morning fog. An indescribable pain seized my throat, dropping into my stomach, and forming a deep ball that weighed down on me. In an unfamiliar world, alone, tears began to well yet none would fall. My breath felt trapped in my chest. The hallway outside buzzed with new voices, yet the world collapsed in on me. In the pit of my room, I sank. It felt unreal as if my parents would knock on my door and take me back to the comforts of where I grew up. The setting sun washed the room in dull orange. The cold texture of the wooden desk shook me, it felt harsh, as if I were an actor performing in a show, yet the curtain was never called. I had felt the warm embrace of my parents for the last time in months, their final goodbyes played on repeat inside my brain. My heart panged, and each beat fluttered, rattling me into an anxious state. My roommate tapped their pen, squeezing their water bottle. Young, I had taken my first step into the old world. The barren, white walls of my dorm room led me to the wide-open plains of new experiences. Four years ago, I sat at an empty desk in an unfamiliar world.
Each day was different, but the experience was the same. These are the first five days.
Freshman college students at Western Washington University march downtown in Bellingham, Wednesday, Sep. 25, 2024. Western hosted “Western Wednesday: First Night out” to commemorate the incoming class of freshman by touring the downtown Bellingham community. (Wavelength/Ronan Lynch)
An unfamiliar world. The weight of it all pushes many to the ground. It’s scary, paralyzing, and the memories of faraway comforts cloud your vision. Freshmen graze the streets, chattering amongst strangers and friends recently met. Shoes skid, trampled grass springs back anew, and the first day of school begins. Stampeding freshmen walk down the grooved pavement, marching downtown like poorly trained soldiers. Groups cluster, forming around loosely shared interests. Most won’t last, but some will, and those few that last are special formations like deeply entrenched gemstones. These groups of freshmen, as they roll past parked cars, hold the same shine and wonder as newborn babies. The maturity of the world, and their newfound responsibilities, haven’t dulled that shine yet. There’s a passion experienced by freshmen to leave their mark as quickly as they can, to leave a lasting impression, and to gain the respect and notoriety of others. Blooming into unique flowers, the petals of roses unfurl with a vibrant red, these freshmen have yet to unleash their potential. It’s hard to describe them as adults but calling them teenagers is only a passing memory now. Conversations begin to trickle down the sloped street. A tiny bell rings. A boy runs beside a girl, offering the small souvenir in exchange for friendship. Small, plastic wheels scratch the road as a teenager in a black suit drives through the enormous crowd. Behind, a boy dressed in a Batman costume chases after. These hordes crash through the downtown area, drums beating, horns blaring, and their voices heard.
College students sit and stand inside the cramped bus stopped at the Viking Union at Western Washington University in Bellingham, Thursday, Sep. 26, 2024. (Wavelength/Ronan Lynch)
There’s a glazed look in the weary travelers. Their eyes rush toward the yellow cord lining the windows as the landscape blurs. Their thoughts race, their hearts pace, and their bodies sway cramped in the tight space of the bus. The bus hisses to a stop. Nervous glances toward the digital sign at the front reveal anxious worries and fervor of when to pull the cord, or where they should get off. On the second day of the first week, the bus schedule and routes are not yet etched inside the mind. The crowd in front of the Viking Union gathers, collecting and forming into an animalistic horde as they pool into the bus. Seats begin to fill, and wide-eyed students collectively ask if they can sit down next to another. As the students squeeze into the bus, the last hope of students hoping to catch a ride is the middle corridor. The students crowd into the bus, becoming an indiscriminate mess as they tightly fit inside.
College students leave and enter one of the auditoriums located in Fraser Hall in Bellingham, Friday, Sep. 27, 2024. (Wavelength/Ronan Lynch)
On the third day, it’s the last day of classes for the week. Exhausted students check their schedules, and anxiety shakes their hands as they check if they’re in the right class. They’ve checked the room number, the name of the teacher, and the name of the class numerous times, but they check it again. Students begin to trickle towards the classroom, around the closed doors, as they watch the students typing away through the small window gap. Students slide down painted walls, hitting the ground as they wait. The doors open, and students rush outside the classroom and the building. A mad scramble. Students leave and enter as if they were going through the revolving doors of an apartment building in Manhattan. As time ticks away, students flood into the academic building. There’s a gnawing feeling ticking away inside each of the students of that class, the growing anxiety of whether they’ll be in that class for the rest of the quarter or if they’ll pursue a different interest, a different class. As the students’ crowd inside the classroom, as the seats fill, a stranger may soon become a friend.
A college student walks amongst crowds of people gathered at the fall kick-off concert hosted by Western Washington’s Art & Music Productions organization in Bellingham, Saturday, Sep. 28, 2024. (Wavelength/Ronan Lynch)
Saturday morning was quiet. Few roamed the red bricks. The buildings stood solitary over an empty campus as many freshmen clung to their rooms, their souls tired from the first week. On the first Saturday away from family and friends back home, a deep sadness must surely be felt in the new students’ tired bones and ragged souls. Quiet morning, loud afternoon. Strobe lights bounced and danced to music, washing the crowd in red and purple colors. New friend groups stand around, chatting, lost in talk. These groups may soon melt away like a thin slice of butter in a hot frying pan. Or they may last for years. Fate unknown but the memories are eternal. A lone student walks through the crowd, eyeing the stands to the left, music blaring behind them. The freshman experience is unique in its ability to have one relate so easily to another as they are sharing the same emotions and feeling the same way that they are.
A college student sits alone inside the Viking Commons, one of the cafeterias located at Western Washington University in Bellingham, Sunday, Sep. 29, 2024. (Wavelength/Ronan Lynch)
Reflection. The first week is over, with many more approaching. There’s a quiet solitude as freshmen find themselves wondering if college is the right choice for them. Some will quietly leave the Western campus for the last time, bound for higher pursuits and different passions. A lone student eats amongst empty chairs and tables, quietly thinking. Amongst the empty space, their thoughts must fill auditoriums. They sit alone in awkward silence. The first week is over, college is the unshaped clay touched by the student who molds it into their creation. Each student can make the next four years the most memorable time of their life; the unrelenting freedom will push them towards their summit. At the peak, they will stare down at the past reflections of themselves and stand proud. Each step is one made in wet cement as they leave their mark on the college grounds. The week is over, but the journey has just begun.
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