Letter from the Editor 10.9.2019

When the majority of the Class of 2020 first set foot on campus as students, High Rise Field was still green. Allegro Pizza and Huntsman Hall stayed open 24 hours a day (I even spent 24 hours in Huntsman for a Street article, once upon a time). 

In the course of, say, human history, we haven’t been here that long. But as a 21–year–old, it’s a significant chunk of my life. And because it’s senior fall — the beginning of something that’s much more of an end — I’ve been thinking a lot about the passage of my first three years on this campus, and how soon the fourth will be over.

Because I can’t help but relentlessly self–narrate when it comes to my life, and because I’m a deeply self–indulgent person, this time of year has brought up a lot of thoughts of cyclicality. 

I see my friends from freshman year on the street now and sometimes we don’t even say hello. I’m reconnecting with other friends I haven't seen in years, people who've come back from abroad or people I've grown apart from. And I'm thinking mostly about how far we've all come. 

Rather than feeling sad, or feeling scared of the vastness of this campus and scared of the vastness, rather than feeling worried about fitting in or finding a place, I’m now able to call Street home. 

I now know the shortcut through Penn Vet that plops you right onto my part of Pine. I've probably been to every Wawa in a two–mile radius, and even though I don't like sports, I still get excited when the Eagles win. Three years ago, none of that was true.

But I also remember that not that much has changed. I came to this campus apprehensive and excited about a new opportunity. Whatever next year brings, I'm pretty sure I'll feel the same way.