Spring is in full bloom and good vibes abound as families, friends, and neighbors gather to congratulate high school graduates. Everyone feels the excitement over the future this time of the year. The graduation party is often the conclusion of a long period of celebrations- senior dinner dances, proms, class trips, award ceremonies, special send-offs, and more. While some graduates head directly into the workforce, navigate new beginnings during a gap year, or pursue options such as the military or travel, many graduates will be starting college. Regardless of their plans, new graduates will field the following questions: “Where are you going to college? What will your major be? Do you have a roommate yet?” Then, after listening to the graduate recount (for the thousandth time) their college plans, they usually hear the same standard reply from friends/family: “What a terrific college!” “It’s going to be GREAT!” “College will be the best years of your life!” To this, the high school graduate will politely reply, “Yep, it's going to be awesome”. During this time of celebration, it might sound surprising to learn that most students were not accepted at their first-choice college. So, let’s be real; while posting college acceptances on social media is common, few post about their delial from a dream college or share the disappointment that follows for the world to see. Also, many students are riddled with worry about being away from home, while still others are concerned about whether their math skills will be enough to persevere where they are going. They almost always harbor questions surrounding their social skills and their capacity to make new friends. All too often, when encountering typical freshman-year struggles, students believe they are alone, assuming everyone else is having “a blast”; college is, after all, meant to be their “best four years.” So, my advice? Normalize as much as possible both the excitement and the challenges related to college. Perhaps try the following conversation openers: What’s on your summer bucket list before you leave for college? This allows the new graduate to direct the conversation. If they choose to bring up college plans, it’s on their terms. Are there any specific subjects/classes you are looking forward to? This question allows the student to talk about whatever they would like to discuss regarding the direction of their coursework. What do you think of the Red Sox this year (or any topic)? Any conversation having nothing to do with college acknowledges the student’s identity outside the conclusion of high school and the start of college- and tends to be more light-hearted. Consider sharing your own balanced experience. Why? Because college is not Disneyland. It is hard and should be hard. Overcoming obstacles is how growth occurs. These newly minted adults will be challenged to the extent that they might feel isolated. It would be helpful to share a personal struggle from your days in college: I remember freshman year; it was fun, but I sure did have to work hard. This allows the student to understand that the challenges ahead are normal. I can’t remember the name of my freshman-year roommate. Many students feel that their roommate needs to be their “bestie”. As adults, we know this doesn’t always work out. College can be tough. If you ever feel overwhelmed, you can always reach out. I’m here for you. Make sure the new graduate knows how to access your support or support elsewhere. Take the opportunity during this time of year to congratulate the graduate, but also normalize the challenge. Let the new graduate know they have a whole community behind them. 

You probably don’t think going to a small liberal arts school in rural Iowa is the most exciting college experience ever. Frankly, in most ways it’s not. We, at Grinnell College, are not immune to the occasional wistful desire for the dazzle of the city. We silently envy the summertime stories our high school friends tell us about daring adventures at big schools with frat parties and nightclubs. On certain winter days, the frostbitten hills and stark brown cornfields surrounding our campus feel more like prison bars than wide-open farmland. So yes, it’s boring here sometimes, and for sure it’s flawed. But though I often imagine what college life would have looked like at another school, I do not regret coming here. I love Grinnell, for all its beautiful people, for the traditions we fight to keep alive, and for the culture and character of our Midwestern town. Above all, life at this tiny, middle-of-nowhere liberal arts college is deeply personal. My college, and the small-town community that I’ve come to think of as my own, hold a special place in my heart. The place where I work is my favorite place on campus: Bob’s Underground, a student-run venue in the basement of one of the dorms. From floor to ceiling, the walls are covered in a diverse mosaic of student art that ranges from the profound to the profane. We host monthly painting parties where any student can express their creativity on the walls. You do not have to be an art student or even remotely skilled to mark up these walls like generations of students have before you. I see this as a place of radical individuality, inclusion, and institutional memory. In Bob’s, surrounded by messy explosions of color, you can feel the bygone memories of so many Grinnellians before you, the epitomization of “if these walls could talk.” My favorite activity that goes on here are the open mics, for the supportive and positive energy of the crowd creates an atmosphere where anyone can experiment with song, spoken-word, comedy, and more. In May, at the end of my freshman year and on my last day in Bob’s, I spent an hour painting a wishing star on a relatively sparse area of the wall behind some tables. I wrote next to it, “I hear you, I promise.” I’m not sure who will see it, but I hope the message will be there for decades to come. I want future Grinnellians to know what I’ve learned in Bob’s: at this school, your voice does not go unheard, the marks you inevitably make on this community do not go unseen. Simply put, you matter. Even when it feels like the dreams you once spoke to your bedroom ceiling have all but dissolved, there are experiences waiting here, and there are people who will know you and shape you as much as you shape them. Grinnell is not a college town, but a town with a college in it. It’s an incredible place to go if, like me, you love truly getting to know people and rooting yourself in a unique place with a welcoming population that will love to know how you are and what you’re doing. Speaking as a poet and sentimental introvert, rural Midwestern life just has a whole different vibe. It’s a liminal space that inspires me and makes me feel at home. And it’s beautiful, not just for what’s here, but for the gaps and the spaces and the silence. The moon as it rises above the Walmart and the empty fields. The way the road stretches on and on. For most of the year, this is my life. This is my dull and holy excitement. I wouldn’t give it up for any number of skyscrapers.