Since 1946, door-to-door sandwich sales have fallen out of favor, but Jerell has still managed to make friends during his freshman year. Photo courtesy of Conn College Archives.
On the morning of August 31, 2010, as I filled the back of my best friend’s car with bags and belongings, I remembered my guidance counselor from high school who had, a few months earlier, made diabolical attempts to ensure that I didn’t go to this school. “Conn’s a really tough college,” he had said. “No worries if you don’t get in.” He didn’t seem particularly worried, as he proceeded to “forget” to send in several application papers on time. I only applied to two schools, Conn and UConn, and somehow he managed to get UConn’s requirements in just fine. Combine that with the fact that his father had once taught at Trinity, a fact he never let me forget, and it became clear whose side he was on. I wanted to pin the acceptance letter to his forehead when I got it. Instead I waved it in his face and danced a little (in my head, anyway).
Now, roughly seven-and-a-half months later, I am waist-deep in work, responsibilities and financial aid papers that should’ve been handed in months ago. Last week during class registration, I slept past the 7:30 AM scramble period (and still got everything I wanted), and I am currently dorm-less in the fall, having been relegated to the singles waiting list. On my bookshelf are at least twenty more books than I had packed on the morning of August 31. Most of them are pretty good, and some I will probably never get around to reading. Taped notes hang on the desk in front of me, as well as winning fortune cookies from Harris that I can’t bring myself to throw away (“The man on top of the mountain did not fall there,” “An old love will come back to you”). I have measured the exact amount of time it takes me to get up, get dressed, get breakfast, and walk to Blaustein for a 9:00 AM with the precision of a laser, allowing me to sleep in to exactly 8:05 AM most days. I haven’t traveled a mile from my room in almost a month. I sleep better in my bed here than I do at home, and that’s fine with me.
In other words, I belong here. Having been raised in New London for most of my life, my memories of growing up are inextricably bound to this place. I’ve lived on State Street, Bank Street, Michael Road, Ocean Avenue and Crystal Avenue, which pretty much covers most of the city. The only place in New London that was really a mystery to me was Connecticut College. I had spent hours in the arboretum as a child, but every time I stood in front of the gate with my grandmother and brother, getting ready for the walk back to Gordon Court, I would look across the street and think, “I wonder if I’ll ever go to that school.”
Sure enough, I did end up going. Also, I didn’t realize it until a recent conversation with my mother, but it turns out I had already attended Connecticut College’s pre-school program as a kid, so I guess I was destined to return or something. In any case, I’m here now, and what has it been like? It’s been a blast. I’ve seen and done things that I thought people just talked about doing. I’ve met people I never want to forget. For the first time since maybe elementary school, I actually feel like I’m learning things that I will remember and use later in life. It hasn’t been perfect, but nothing is.
Still, my roommate’s recent trip to Trinity, the school my guidance counselor secretly wanted me to attend, got me thinking: what would my experience at another college have been like? Would I have been as pleased with any other college as I am here at Conn? I suppose I could’ve interviewed a student from another college to find out, but why do that when there’s websites like College Prowler, which give colleges letter grades based on (hopefully not too biased) reviews from the students?
I checked out College Prowler and Conn’s grading seems pretty fair. We got an A- on academics, and B’s on most everything else. The only areas where students seem to think we’re lacking are things like weather, transportation and off-campus housing, which are literally all beyond the control of the students and faculty.
Just out of curiosity I checked out Trinity’s rating, and wasn’t all that surprised to see similar reviews. One thing that stuck out in a couple reviews from both schools was the sentence “it is what you make of it.” This is probably true of just about any college in the world. In regards to the party scene, I asked my roommate, Zach Balomenos ’14, what he thought of the party scene at Conn as compared to Trinity, and he said, “Take the craziest night at Conn, and you don’t even have the quietest night at Trinity.”
That’s probably got a lot to do with the fact that Conn lacks frat houses, something I personally couldn’t be more grateful for, but that’s beside the point. I for one cherish my right to, if I so please, sleep peacefully on a Saturday night.
Conn might be one of the most expensive schools in the country, it might be regularly accused of generating hipster apathy and family members still ask me how my first year at UConn is going, but all in all it really has been good to me. I can’t really offer a total retrospective on my first year here because it technically isn’t even over yet. What I can say, however, is that I’m already looking forward to next year. •
