Fall break presented a startling realization: it took this visit home to realize I had left it in Chattanooga. My friends and I returned with a newfound appreciation for the life we enjoyed on campus and in the community. Home was a paradox because everything was the same, but noticeably different. Visiting friends and others seemed almost like an obligation or homage to our past. Although I treasured relaxing with my parents in the comfort of my home, I felt out of place in my old favorite spots.

I’ve caught myself casually referring to my dorm as home. It seems inevitable; the past three months have been Read the rest of this entry »

The course narrowed and curved uphill as the finish line slowly came into view. Though my reception was dramatically less enthusiastic than the frontrunners received, the spectators’ cheers revived my spirits. I exhausted myself trying to catch two opponents, a thrill that stirred fond memories of my high school finishes. However, this particular finish was less than memorable; I staggered around in a daze trying to convince myself the race clock was wrong. I listened as our team leaders stretched and discussed the intense moments during the race, another familiar practice I witnessed wistfully.

Perhaps I perceived these similarities so readily because such few exist between high school and college. “The real world” threat, often foretold by parents and teachers, was fulfilled for me on the Tuesday following Fall Break. I shuffled into a morning class and noticed my classmates contributing to a thick pile of papers on the professor’s desk. My baffled expression caught another’s eye and she said sympathetically, “The paper was on the syllabus.”

Syllabus? My new life has emphasized words and expressions formerly dismissed as irrelevant. Whether it is time-management, attention to detail, responsibility or other buzz-words adults constantly promote, my newfound independence has introduced realizations that reaffirm the hype. Whenever friends ask how I am faring with classes and practice, I simply respond, “Just trying to keep up.” I quoted Robert Frost in the title of my post because I feel I must get so much work done each day before I allow myself to rest.

Time has also vindicated my “nagging” parents; I realize their pet peeves served a purpose. One day I startled myself when I heard myself quoting them when I noticed my bedroom needed a thorough cleaning. Other times I find myself asking one roommate to turn down his stereo because “others are trying to sleep.” My fridge and cupboards also make me homesick; I can no longer request groceries and expect them to magically appear after my father’s weekly Kroger trip.
Despite these occasional reflections, UTC continues to excite me with enjoyable experiences. I kayaked down the Hiwassee River with my team and continued their traditions of swimming in the safe rapids and leaping off a low bridge. Considering I shied away from such reckless abandon in high school, my Western Humanities professor would probably liken my water adventure to a metaphorical baptism, an initiation into my new personality.

My classes also intrigue me. We watched The Truman Show and A Streetcar Named Desire, but my professor delved past their obvious entertainment merits and revealed the remarkable philosophical theories in each film. Voltaire’s Candide prompted me to reconsider my personal beliefs concerning life, fate and other deep questions. My communications class continues to appeal to my appreciation for history, entertainment and culture.

The entertainment on campus provides a welcome escape from school. The homecoming lip sync contest was hilarious; Pi Kappa Alpha’s outrageous skit drew hysterical laughter and they claimed victory. The step-show, a popular dance/stomping performance at UTC, was less exciting, but much more spirited. I sat among the Chi Omegas and experienced their shrieking jubilation after they won the step contest.

My first college Homecoming introduced me to another first: funnel cake. UTC offered the delicious pastry and snow cones on Cardiac Hill for free, so I had the fortune to try the famous fried food. The weekend’s other events were spoiled by rain, but many energetic fans braved the conditions and cheered the Mocs to an incredible victory in football.

College has already changed me in a month. Initially everything’s sense of newness was overwhelming, and I nervously encountered new people and experiences. However, I am quickly growing more comfortable approaching others and enjoying the variety of fun across campus. Though I occasionally feel homesick or nostalgic, I realize my present situation presents far more opportunities to grow than I can possibly experience elsewhere. My cross country coach summed it up fittingly during a demanding workout when he reminded me, “Kid, this isn’t high school anymore.”

The TomTom urged us to turn left whenever possible as my mother tapped the screen with frustration. Its once novel British accent aggravated my father, already annoyed by Chattanooga’s one-way streets. Our simple drive to find a McDonalds breakfast took us on an impromptu tour of North Shore and an old urban neighborhood, a confusionthat made me nostalgic for our family road trips. Eventually we found America’s fast food joint by the student health center, an amusing irony we appreciated.We then found my dorm and quickly unpacked with the help of the UTC football team. I lingered by the car hesitantly, slowly realizing this family trip would return with one less passenger.

My parents’ departure was unexpectedly anti-climatic. We snapped a picture in front of my dorm, hugged, and they returned to the car. I can only imagine the mixed sigh of relief they shared in the car; this was a milestone twenty-eight years in the making. My sister Melanie, 28, has already graduated from the University of Memphis, taught elementary school, married, and is currently raising sixteen-month old twins in Charleston, South Carolina. My twenty-five year old brother Derrick ran cross country and track for UT Martin, earned his Masters at ETSU, and moved near my sister as a policeman in Charleston.

Although I suspect my mother manipulated me to attend college in East Tennessee to push me towards the rest of her brood in Charleston, I chose UTC for a wide variety of reasons. Aside from the generous scholarships that made it the practical choice, I simply felt comfortable in Chattanooga. Knoxville’s immense concrete jungle campus felt overwhelming, and I was more than eager to leave Memphis after nineteen years. I also received a small scholarship to compete on UTC’s cross country team, an eye-opening experience I will share shortly.

UT Chattanooga boasts three qualities I sought in a college: affordable, small, and it’s dynamic. UTC is not a one dimensional university; campus and community recreation is available such as clubs, free concerts, cookouts, church services, and countless outdoor activities. My main extracurricular activity, cross country, consumes my time. One commonly hears 8 am class horror stories, but my day begins around 7. I wake up during a light 4 mile run or a less-than-leisurely pool workout, and then run again in the afternoon. I undoubtedly make a great impression as a pale and shirtless lightweight in short shorts.

Freshmen on UTC's Cross Country Team (L-R) Ryan Tutor, Kyle McLarty, me, Mark Cole, TJ Whitaker, and Lucas Cotter

Owing to an injury that prevented me training over the summer, I nervously approached our first practice. Our team captain assured us it would be light and introductory. We blazed through downtown, over the quaint walking bridge to North Shore, and past the row of artsy shops and restaurants before another freshman and I “dropped”, exhausted and winded. Dazed, we staggered over a bridge not intended for pedestrians and took the first exit off the interstate. The same teammate and I have since had similar lost explorations on Signal Mountain’s Reflection Point trail, the Chickamauga Civil War battlefield, and Moccasin Bend.

Aside from humbling practices, my sport introduced me to new friends: my teammates. Whether it is movie night at the Bijou Cinema, Amigo’s $0.75 tacos on Monday night, $0.45 wings at Buffalo Wild Wings on Tuesday, carbo-loading at Olive Garden, or just playing on the Xbox, I’m fortunate to figuratively and literally run around with great teammates.

Frequently urged to get involved in many ways, I noticed a flyer for The House and decided to investigate the nearby building. I was pleasantly surprised to discover I enjoyed it; a band plays non-denominational worship music, and Pastor Burke shares some words that encourage students and challenge them to explore their faith. The House also hosted an unrelated concert that featured a variety of Chattanooga bands.

My socialite lifestyle caught up with me once, however. I took a study-break outside my dorm one evening and my neighbors beckoned me over. Eager to meet new friends, I approached the lively group and introduced myself. Moments later, two upset RAs emerged and silenced us, collecting our names and ID numbers. I received a reprimanding email days later that informed me I was on the noise complaint list.

Classes were certainly an experience compared to high school. As a Catholic school student for my entire education, I balked when one professor freely doubted God’s existence and challenged a fundamentalist student’s beliefs. Another professor’s dry sarcasm entertained the class, but successfully presented the drier lesson.

Time certainly changed moving from Memphis; it sped up. College life is a whirlwind that demands proper time management and responsibility. Only three weeks into my new life, I view the snapshot of my parents and I as an attic artifact, but the routes I run around the elusive McDonalds and North Shore are all too familiar.