Dear Faculty and
Staff of Warren Wilson College,
Today was a bad day. It rained. I forgot my raincoat at
home. My socks were wet. My best friend’s girlfriend kept flirting with me. I
had hat hair. You know, the kind of day that crumbles in your fingers each time
you try to grasp its horns. I was sitting there at work, muttering about this
and that, when a nice girl sat down next to me. She was a prospective student,
visiting from Maine. Her name was Laura, I think. Her hair was short and her
voice was sweet. My quiet, cheerless expression must have piqued her interest,
because without hesitation, she asked me if I was in the freshman class.
“Nope. I’m
a senior.” I spoke with slow intention.
Out of nowhere, Laura exclaimed, “Did you enjoy your time at
Warren Wilson?” I laughed nervously, mostly to buy myself some more time to
think of simple, concise words. What was I supposed to say to that? “Yes” isn’t
the whole story and “No” just isn’t true. I tried to come up with a story, a
plan, or a place that could possibly communicate the intricacies of college.
Should I tell her about my life-changing professors? Or maybe about the time I
hung my friend’s bikes from a tree by the pedestrian bridge? Perhaps she wants
to know how many times I’ve climbed the hickory tree on top of Dogwood since
first filing the FAFSA before my freshman year?
With a chuckle under my breath, I told her that was a complicated question.
“Wilson is a fun place, you’d like it… I think.”
But she was on to something important: How we convey the
complexity of our past reflects not only our basic level of fulfillment, but
also our desire to try to take it all back and start again. Depending on whom
I’m talking to, I recount my time at Warren Wilson in different contexts. If it
is a best friend, I speak of three sections, each corresponding to a connection
I made with someone important in my life. If it is an employer, I speak of the
time I first learned how to be a leader my sophomore year. But, for the purpose
of the growth the college, or the department, or whatever needs to be grown, I
speak of two contrasting sections. The first two years of my college career, I
was getting the education I was sold as a prospective student. It was fun, but
to be honest, it wasn’t mine. Then after two years, I gave myself an ultimatum:
Find a way to learn what I want to learn, or move to a place where this is
possible. And, as you probably imagined, I figured it out at Warren Wilson.
I had 30 hours of service after my sophomore year because no
one was pushing me to find what inspired me to give back. My work crew was
irrelevant to any job I would ever have in the future because no one was
reinforcing the idea that the work program is the biggest asset to building
your resume. The classes I was enrolled in were not enriching because I thought
taking classes I enjoyed and taking challenging classes were mutually
exclusive. I think a lot of students at Warren Wilson don’t realize the extent
of their education’s flexibility. The Triad is only the framework, while it is
up to the student to merge the three branches into an education. When I made
these connections, I found my energy for growth suddenly renewed. The Triad was
no longer a force-fed requirement; it was a resource I could manipulate.
I think the threat of becoming apathetic and uninspired is
always present. I felt it two years into my degree. I felt it after every
heartbreak I endured during my time here. I felt it even as my professors felt
it themselves. Fighting this condition with every ounce of passion is my top
priority, as it should be for everyone. One must seek out the new, refreshing
parts of one’s life to combat indifference. There is no excuse for not being
genuinely excited to get out of bed every single day. I hold this lesson closer
than any lesson an over-priced textbook has ever taught me.
Today, while I sat at work wearing soggy shoes, I bit my
tongue in the face of this apathy. I stopped being the embodiment of this rainy
day. I decided it wasn’t my place to skew what could end up being the most
pivotal decision in that wonderful potential student’s life. I truly hope Laura
thinks highly enough of any place at all to be able to commit herself to grow
there. Surely there are unfavorable things to say about Warren Wilson, but
there are unfavorable things to say about any place. There’s no point in being
ungrateful for an experience you’ve already had.
The flexibility I had the pleasure of discovering in this
school is a quality not found every day. If Laura were to ask me the same question
tomorrow about how I enjoyed my four years at Warren Wilson, I wouldn’t chuckle
under my breathe and skirt around the question as I did today. I would laugh
heartily at the fond memories I have made along the way. I would tell of how I
had the ability to mold my education into the curriculum I thought would make
me a better person. I would gush about the warming feeling of a Dogwood morning
in spring. I would describe the feeling of energy I felt when I realized just
how much control I could have.
I have grown so much in the past four years, and for lack of
a hand to shake, I express my sincere gratitude to Warren Wilson College for
showing me that I direct my own life, for better or for worse.
Warmly,
Riley West
My awesome sister is moving to Paris. She's going to eat baguette and drink tasty, tasty wine. Congratulations, Kira!
