4. Relocation

Sometimes, forcing your feelings into the back of your head and ignoring your fear pays off. Alright, I’ve only found one time that it worked but it paid off really well. What’s a guy to do, sitting in the family minivan as it nears the strange new place that will be his home for the next several months? I knew that I was powerless, and as my favorite radio station died out in the speakers I felt a pang of terror.

The butterflies in my stomach were doing circus stunts... I felt nearly nauseous. I fought them down and distracted myself with passing scenery and shallow conversation with dad. What the heck was my problem? A hundred different people must have told me the move was scary but worth the challenge. Somehow I had thought if I admitted my fear ahead of time, I could sidestep it altogether.

I had been wrong. I wanted dad to turn back so I could stay at my safe, comfortable house forever with my big bedroom and pool and limited responsibilities. I wanted to sit around and play videogames with my little sisters while my parents made the big decisions. At the same time I wished I could have come to school by myself and moved into my room alone. At least then I wouldn’t have to say goodbye; at least then I wouldn’t have my family with me as reminders of everything I was leaving behind at home.

Maybe that would have been better once I got to campus. But then again, it only would have pushed the challenging scene back a couple hours to the point when I would have left home all alone (plus it wouldn’t have been smart cause I didn’t know how to get to school). Also I would have sweated to death trying to carry all my junk without my family’s help. So, we did things the logical way and the car ride was difficult.

Earlier in the summer the University had mailed us contact information for our assigned roommates, but I hate using the phone and I put off making the call. Fortunately, my roommate-to-be was more normal and friendly than I. One night over the summer I’d received a call from the total stranger with whom I would be living for an entire school year.

We’d talked about music and other interests, and got along well enough that the important stuff was temporarily forgotten. By the time move-in day rolled around the two of us had good impressions of each other and had worked out who would supply the carpet, whose TV we would use, whether we needed a microwave, etc. It helped to know the details were covered…but nothing could take away my nervousness as we entered town and I pulled out my campus map.

So I found myself that August afternoon lugging my belongings through a maintenance entrance to my dorm, a rear door that was the easiest way in from the parking spot we miraculously found. We had been forced to circle the block amidst heavy traffic, but that was fine because searching for a space created a welcome distraction. Everywhere I looked there were kids saying goodbye to their parents, which did not make the process any easier.

Once my arms were loaded and my parents and sisters were following me carrying stuff, the worst was over. Through the entrance we went, where I was directed to a row of tables for sign-in. I awkwardly autographed a form, got my room key and a pile of paperwork to never read, and from there it was up the stairs to find my new place of residence.

The building was a zoo, with families separating and freshmen meeting their new peers and fathers carrying vacated computer boxes. Signs on the wall kept us from getting lost more than once on the way to my room, which we found in a short stretch of hallway at one end of the building. As I honed in on the door with the right number, one of the guys talking in an adjacent doorway asked for my name.

He was my roommate. He introduced himself and we shook hands as my family and I squeezed through the door to unload my things. His parents had dropped him off earlier that morning and laid the carpet, positioned the desks, and bunked the beds. My new roommate was polite, seemed cool, and helped as I got unpacked and situated.

The room was so tiny that it looked like only one arrangement of the furniture would work, so without delay we unpacked my sweet new computer. Hooking it up when my parents left would prove an excellent diversion. Several trips down to the car, profuse sweating in the Midwestern autumn heat, and twenty minutes later we were finished.

I locked my bike to the rack in front of the building, dad loaded the empty packing boxes back into the car, and then my family went home. We said goodbye and I had little desire for tears, felt just a tiny bit scared as they left; I made a point of being too busy fidgeting with power cords and introducing myself to guys in the corridor and putting my clothes away to become horrified.

Having a good roommate made the whole move-in and adjustment process much easier. Because we got along, I always had someone to hang out with and talk to those first two weeks. During that time we ate most of our meals together and were usually around each other when neither of us had class or errands to run. I can barely imagine how rough it might have been to get through the first weeks if I’d been assigned a disagreeable roommate.

But God had my back; He made sure I got somebody who was easy to talk to and enjoyable to hang out with, and who made the transition relatively painless. Much less of a factor but still helpful, it was good that the University scheduled hours of fun-filled entertainment for its 3500 new students.

At first glance, the mandatory list of freshman seminars and activities set up for our first weekend looked annoying – high school had already taught us that both of the above are typically boring and pointless. Even the social events that were meant to be exciting seemed forced and cheesy. I’m not super shy but do poorly without a friend or two around to work with, so I was nervous about meeting people.

Unlike most of the new students, I had no one from my hometown to hang out with. Hardly a person had heard of the village on my mailing address, and very few suburban kids could relate to a farm boy from way out in the boonies. So, when everyone went to the concert our first night on campus I tagged along with my roommate and his friends. I mingled a little at the concert but only a very small “little.” It was less than encouraging.

The next morning I biked into town for my books and went to almost all of my assigned meetings. After a forever-long seminar (about being nice or something) the entire freshman class was treated to a picnic where I tried some more clumsy introductions. I noticed little improvement but felt ok – talking to half a dozen people was better than talking to no people at all.

When the boredom and blandness were over, I was shocked to realize the University’s plans had served a purpose after all. We weren’t just bored; we were bored together. We were bored as a class. And as long as there was something to run off to, someone talking and a crowd to glance around in, I had trouble stopping to feel sorry for myself. Wouldn’t you know it... by the time I got around to worrying, there was nothing to worry about!

Still, I knew growing comfortable with being around people all the time would be an accomplishment for me. I’m used to a house in the country, half a mile from the road and even farther from the nearest neighbors. Eighteen years of adjusting is not something you shake off overnight. But, despite feeling constantly surrounded, I quickly learned to enjoy dorm life. I didn’t love the noise, or the bathrooms, or a number of other things...but I got used to them, and I liked the guys I lived with.

The main downside to numbers is this: having 2/3 as many people in my dorm as had been in my entire high school made the University’s size intimidating. At the start, I was afraid I’d never find somewhere to fit in and would have to spend weekends all by my lonesome for four years. That first week and a half, prayer was the one source of assurance that kept this thought from smothering me.

Luckily, one of the several honest things they tell you when you tour campuses as a high school kid is that college will quickly get smaller – make a few friends and suddenly, you have an entire network of acquaintances. In addition to the new friends you find, you’ll meet their roommates, their friends from home, their roommates’ friends. I never would have believed it if someone told me, but at a school with fifteen thousand undergraduates I see someone I know on my way to every class... and have since halfway through my first year!

As a person who never has and never intends to drink, perhaps my biggest fear (larger, even, than my community bathroom phobia) going into college was that I would catch a lot of flak for not drinking. Before it even started to get dark on move-in day, binge drinking – referred to simply as ‘partying’ because the alcohol is considered a given – had become a hot topic.

A frequent response to “do you party?” was “I have a good time, but I don’t get crazy or anything.” As I’d feared, planning not to drink put me in a slim minority. Most of the students I talked to seemed to believe that if you wanted to have a good time in college, you went out and got drunk. I worried that disagreeing with this popular idea would mark me as a wimp, a loser, or worse.

To my surprise, no one cared much whether I chose not to drink. I was relieved to find that although I was the only non-drinker in a 20-odd person corridor, the guys were friendly. Not to mention hilarious, and even in the two weeks before I started making close friends I always had someone to hang out and eat with. But when the first Thursday evening came along, this was not enough to remove my worry that I’d be spending weekend nights alone.

A week from that day I went to Primetime, and my dreary outlook changed. Primetime is the weekly meeting of Campus Crusade for Christ, an organization dedicated to introducing God’s love to college students on campuses nationwide. I’d heard Campus Crusade was big at the University, and I definitely wanted to see what it was all about. I hiked to Primetime with Dan, who I’d met in philosophy class and who would prove to be the first close friend I made at the University. We got very lost – made a wide loop all the way around the building we were looking for – and accidentally walked in the front doors a good 20 minutes late.

Since we showed up on our own schedule, it was tough finding seats; a crowd of nearly 800 had gathered in one of the University’s largest auditoriums to sing worship songs, pray, and listen to what the week’s speaker had to say. We were too late to see MC (or is it emcee? who knows) Dave’s welcome, but hadn’t met Dave yet so were unaware we’d missed some laughs. The band was great and the message was really good, plus I met some cool people afterwards. I’ve gone to many of the Primetimes since and am happy so many students at the University are interested.

Do I think attending Crusade should be necessary for all college students? Nah – a person’s relationship with Jesus exists (or does not exist) regardless of involvement in any particular organization. Getting caught up in the group itself would defeat the purpose, but any program set up to help students grow closer to God – and meet cool people with similar priorities – gets my meager support. When you go to school or if you are there already, see what you can learn about Campus Crusade for Christ at your college. And if you’re remotely interested, check it out!