my first year, in slices by Veronica P. '27
ft. ruminations on the freshmen friend group
“The muscles of my soul, longing for the opportunity to feel and fear and push, know they would otherwise atrophy.”
I wrote this line roughly a month before move-in, in an effort to capture just what it was about the college experience that drew me. Fresh out of high school, with my hometown chapter tied neatly in a bow, I felt- quite honestly- bored. I craved excitement, wanted my life to take the shape of any proper coming-of-age novel: rife with unanticipated twists, huge thrills, daunting challenges, quintessentially adolescent intensity, and, ultimately, growth.
Life doesn’t always work out this way, but, a year later, I can report that I got exactly what I was looking for. Amongst adjacent adventures, I had that “canon event” freshman year friend group experience: the chain of events- more precisely those of the powder keg variety- that unfold when a group of wildly different people, plunging into a wildly different life, cling onto the first people they meet and- seeking some sense of community- see those connections through far longer than they would under any other circumstance.
Do I regret it? No, not at all. For every bridge burned, there were some incredible, genuine connections formed. Even for those bonds that didn’t last, I’m a firm believer in the notion that people come into your life to teach you something; they aren’t always meant to stay, and that isn’t necessarily a bad thing- or anyone’s fault.
Besides, I don’t want to look back on this period of my life and fixate on the soap-opera-ness of it all. Those moments have a tendency to stick regardless, and how can you possibly expect anyone- yourself included- to know exactly how to react whilst confronted with a million changes at once?
At the end of the day, the moments that I’d like to linger on- the moments I want to press gently against my chest and rerun in my mind- were the smaller quirks and joys. Those moments of my first year that made my life feel like a silly little slice-of-life sitcom, blessed with a cast of truly remarkable people.
And one of the best parts about a sitcom is that you can tune in at any moment. So, without further ado, here’s a nonlinear series of glimpses into my freshman year at MIT:
—
Gathered around a circle of delightfully greasy Cambridge Pizza, a figure snaps us out of our post-Halloweekend indulgence.
“Is that my 5.111 TA?”
“No way- he’s dressed like an orbital!!!”
—
9PM. The first night of CPW.
Our roommate- hosting two prefrosh- had the air mattress pump and her phone on DND. In one last attempt to get a hold of her, seeing her Find My location somewhere within the Baker sphere, we took to yelling on the sidewalk:
“YOUR CHILDREN NEED YOU!”
“HELLOOOOO”
“YOU’RE A HORRIBLE MOTHER!!!!”
Disheartened, we began our trudge back.
A facetime notification.
“Is that y’all screaming outside the 4W Lounge window!?”
Victory.
—
“So you’re telling me if I listen to The Periodic Table Song all night I’ll pass my 5.111 final?”
“That’s not what I’m saying at all-”
“Too late. Just watch me.”
—
One minute, you’re passed out on top of your bare mattress in the middle of packing up your dorm room. The next-
“LADIES. WAKE UP. We’ve got 4 hours left on our rental car and we’re going to Bova’s.”
—
Number of times we’ve sprinted to catch the Safe Ride: 14
Number of times we’ve left with enough time to leisurely walk: 0
—
“Wait, I know we all just met, but you can help me convince these Phi Delts guys I’m an MIT student, right? Like, give me a major.”
“Omg yes. When we get to the door just say you’re a Course 6. Everyone’s a Course 6- they’ll never question it.”
—
‘SCREAM AT THE RIVER IN 5 MIN EOM.’
—
“I just feel like we keep going off on tangents, we need to focus”
“Hmm, so essentially… we’re deriving, and you need me to integrate, right?”
[making a mental note to add that to my notes app] … “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”
—
[excerpt from my notes app]
phrases i’d never used until MIT:
“I would go, but I’d have to get ready and the activation energy is simply too high.”
(in lieu of following the sidewalk) “Should we hypotenuse it?”
“I think you’re like Flourine, you know? You just feel this huge need to be bonded to someone.”
—
Early bird runners slipped past us on the Harvard Bridge as the sun rose over the first day of finals season. The group of us, dreary eyed from an adventurous all-nighter but holding out for Baker Breakfast, leaned against the railing as Bruno Mars rang out of our handheld speaker.
“Same time next year?”
“Are we on PNR next year?”
“Right.”
taken by me!