There’s little that will keep me tied to Northwestern this quarter. Honestly, it’s a rare moment nowadays when I have to walk east of Sheridan and onto campus. Three days a week I take the Purple Express to the Loop for an internship that I do for no school credit. I can’t remember my last walk from the Arch to Tech, or the last time I sat down in Norris for coffee and work, or when I last had a meal in a dining hall. I pay for a gym now because it’s around the corner from my apartment and getting to SPAC could be a workout in itself.
The reasons are obvious: My classes have been cut in half and my responsibilities with student groups have withered away. I haven’t graduated yet, but I already feel detached. If I were to walk down Sheridan again, I doubt I would recognize more than three faces. Yet wherever I go, small reminders appear of who I used to be on campus, and what I used to do.
This very publication was my first student group. I was a clueless non-Medill writer trying to join a community and get something published. And two years ago – which feels like a lifetime – I was neck deep in meetings, editing schedules and managing the Life & Style section as the editor. There wasn’t time for much else. It was my responsibility to make sure the section functioned, one of the first times I had real responsibility at Northwestern. At the end of the quarter, I dropped the position and immediately felt myself drifting away from the NBN community. Others took my role, forgot who I was. I became a dinosaur on staff. And here I am, in my last gasps as a member of NBN, writing a column about life as a Northwestern senior.
My life as a senior in Zeta Beta Tau is even less involved. I skip meals, I skip chapters, I skip parties. I skipped our winter formal last quarter. Clearly, I am a neglectful brother. Our pledge class recently transitioned into real brothers of our house, and I know nearly none of them. That’s a full quarter of members that have little to no recollection of me and likely never will. They are already starting to take leadership roles and I see the dynamic of the house changing. Soon, the one organization that has been a constant part of my life for all four years here will transform from under my feet.
For the past two years, Dillo morning defined the culmination of my sophomore and junior years. I didn’t mix mimosas, but moved barricades around the lakefill and set up equipment onstage. And even though I left Mayfest, I still wish the best for all of my friends. Outside of Greek life, I think Mayfest is one of the strongest communities, and when I see my friends still involved, they remind me of the work I did with them. But they’ve moved on without me (awesome website and Tumblr, btw). While I don’t regret those crazy May planning days and sober Dillo moments, May 26 this year will be very different from the other side of the fence.
My old days of NBN, ZBT and Mayfest have fallen apart. I’m not needed anywhere anymore on campus, and what I recognized as part of my Northwestern identity is no longer the same. For the first three years, I belonged on campus. It was all I knew.
Maybe I’ve simply grown and need new places to explore. Parts of Chicago are becoming more and more familiar and I tend to keep an ear and an eye south toward events happening in the city more often than I do for Evanston. Northwestern: We’ve had some awesome adventures during our years together and I think you’re a great place for students, but we’re moving in different directions. I need to explore more, and you have a whole new crop of students to teach. The younger classes will change NBN, ZBT, Mayfest and all the other student groups, but they’re ready to make it their own as I did once before.