On a Changing Relationship with New London

The stretch between the first day of my Freshman Orientation and my first fall break felt like a horrible social experiment gone awry. Not because I was suffering from crippling homesickness nor because I was stuck in an intro-level science class at 9 a.m. on Tuesday and Thursday mornings nor because I was punched in the stomach by a flailing bro on my way out of the first Rave. I was miserable because, as I realized when my parents picked me up on the second week in October, I had not set foot off campus since move in day. I was confined to the proverbial Connecticut College bubble for six weeks straight, left to wander from my triple in Larrabee to Harris to Shain to Cro to Blaustein and back again until I forgot that a world existed past the Campus Safety Gate and down Route 32.

My first year at Conn was the last year that the College allowed freshmen to register cars on campus, but due to my fear of driving on the highway, I wasn’t able to enjoy that privilege. While there were several options that allowed (and still allow) freshmen opportunities to leave Conn and explore the world down the Hill, I (rather, foolishly) did not take advantage of any of those chances. I don’t remember attending any school-sponsored, off-campus outings. Most of my friends were freshmen, and they also didn’t have any modes of transportation unless you count a few longboards and a Razor scooter. And the one time I stepped foot on the Camel Van, I was so overwhelmed by the loud music and strangers, I turned around and left.

I thought that my only chance at ever leaving this campus would be to volunteer in New London and ride in the OVCS van once a week. As bright-eyed freshmen with free time, Opinions Editor Jerell Mays and I signed up to help organize archives at the New London Historical Society, a job that also involved us painting a fence and ripping weeds in the backyard; we lasted two months. But, we were afforded the opportunity to get off campus every Friday afternoon post-Fall break until Thanksgiving. It was not only fun but also healthy to be reminded that the world kept spinning outside of Conn. Now, in my last year of college — and aggressively planning for my future — I can’t imagine a life separate from the outside world, in particular, separate from New London.

Many upperclassmen, seniors in particular, venture into New London (or further away) multiple times a week; getting off campus has become part of our normal existence. Despite its beauty, the Conn campus is small, and after three years, it can start to feel a bit suffocating. The novelty of freshman year wears off, and we ache to stretch and remind ourselves that the world we are studying at school is all around us — we just have to step outside the bubble to appreciate it. If not the urge to gain some distance, maybe it’s just double salad bar night in Harris — the perfect opportunity to drive downtown and pick up some Jasmine Thai or sit by the water with some burgers from Fred’s Shanty. And for those of us who are 21 or older, the bars offer a nice change of pace from Cro Bar (though I do appreciate a good pun), as Tim Hartshorn ’14 has been highlighting in a new weekly column for the Voice.

Through his research on bar culture and his experiences as an afterschool tutor at the New London Public Library, Hartshorn has become quite familiar with the city and its residents, echoing a sentiment felt by many seniors: “As a freshman, I barely spent any time in New London … [but now] it is rare for me to go more than a few days without spending some time downtown.”

Many upperclassmen have come to value the resources that New London offers, especially those who are in independent living. For me, the first time I realized that my relationship with New London had changed was last year when two of my friends living in Winchester brought me along grocery shopping; it was the first time I had stepped in a supermarket while at college, and it made me realize how secluded and sheltered we can be as college students, but for what reason?

Living in dorms on a college campus doesn’t diminish our status as contributing members of society, though when we become reliant on the school to provide us with all of our meals and aren’t responsible for cleaning up the bathrooms that some of us destroy on the weekends, we sometimes forget that. For students housed in apartments and independent living—who are more self-sufficient than the rest of us—New London commodities become an important staple in their lives. Casey Dillon ’14, a resident of the 360 Apartments, said that independent living has helped her appreciate more of what New London has to offer. She and her roommate often go downtown to buy groceries from Fiddleheads, coffee from Bean & Leaf or meals on Bank and State Streets. “It’s a wonderful change of pace to get out into the community and interact with non-college people,” Dillon said.

It’s unfortunate, for me, that it’s taken four years to establish a relationship with New London, to appreciate what the city has to offer to college students. Now with less than two semesters left, I have a long New London bucket list and little time to cross anything off it, and I suspect that I am not the only senior feeling this way. So, I encourage students of all ages to take a break from Conn and explore the city that has adopted us for four years of our lives. And for those of us with little time left to do so, the hour is ripe. Who knows, maybe a few years down the road we’ll be sitting behind our desks in whatever city offers us a job, and we’ll feel a pang of homesickness for that little city on the Connecticut shore.