Ending My Community College Era
The day after tomorrow, I will no longer call this lovely little place my academic home.
In the center of campus, two benches sit inside the circle formed by a short brick wall and a ring of cherry blossom trees. They’re green now, but it wasn’t so long ago that they were bursting with baby pink flowers.
It’s probably the most popular site for photos on campus; it’s probably the prettiest place on campus. I don’t care for it, though — the trees, when they flower, when everyone else wants to be near them, are always full of bees. Laugh all you like, but I have never been able to shake my fear of bees, so I give that little grove a nice wide berth. So much for spring semester photographs.
Okay, so I can’t speak to fond memories of the most photogenic spot on campus, but that’s okay. My fondest memories of this place have nothing to do with pretty blooms.
I remember the feeling of elation that fought through the tiredness as I made my way to my eight a.m. differential equations class, knowing that classroom held some of my favorite people, knowing each day new calculus awaited.
I remember a steady stream of fresh coffee, the way you could smell it when walking down the hall, and how many classroom chairs were set up in that tiny…