I am a senior, and, as such, my first ID card was white, given to me before the dawn of GWorld. My friends lived in Adams, not Lafayette. I bought my over-priced milk at the MC Store, not the Provisions Market. When I went to J Street, I could choose from the diner, the Grill, and the Tex-Mex counter.
I am a senior, and I remember when the University did not reserve more than half the residence halls on campus for freshmen. I remember when the crew team competed among themselves to row in Dirigos. I remember when I could walk down the street and not encounter Sidewalk Closed – Please Use Other Side signs. I remember when choosing a major didn’t mean having to pay an extra $2,000 for tuition.
I am a senior, and I’ve paid my dues. I walked up to my room on the eighth floor in Thurston when the elevator didn’t work. I waited forever in J Street for my number to be called in the housing lottery as the residence halls closed one by one. I spent spring break down at the boathouse. I made the trek to Safeway to buy mediocre fruit. I danced at the Tequila Grill. I gave my voluntary library gift. I wrote my Weimar paper.
I am a senior, and I had fun. I went abroad. I ate at America’s Diner at 2 a.m. after a water polo party. I took pictures of Big-Head Bill and Hillary Clinton at the Inaugural Ball. I attended women’s games to watch good basketball. I worked out along and on the Potomac under the Cherry Blossoms. I went to parties in a green house on Virginia Avenue.
I am a senior, but I am not done yet. I will endure one last week of reading days and finals. I will use up my debit dollars on Jamba Juice. I will spend one last Tuesday at Mister Days. I will graduate on the Ellipse.
I am a senior, and I’d like to say goodbye.