As I order my chick-fil-A sandwich with two moist pickles, I realize how far away from home I really am.
As a transfer student, I am at odds with my peers. Academically, I am junior with an Associate’s Degree, yet socially, I appear as a freshman, confused, curious, and occasionally lost. On my first day as Life Editor for the Lee Clarion, I became the laughingstock of my peers when it was discovered that I did not know the names of any buildings on Lee.
Other unfortunate circumstances included famous freshman antics, such as asking, “When is chapel?” “Why can’t I log on to any computers?” “Where is room 102?” and “Why is there no parking?”
Speaking of freshman, I have the privilege this year of joining most transfer students in the pleasure of taking a few freshman classes that didn’t transfer with my credits. Among them, my Foundations of Western Culture class is quite the trip. I feel slightly powerful yet slightly stupid as I sit in a class with recent high school graduates who have never taken a college course.
Sadly, these instances are the only times when I get to feel like I actually know what I’m doing. Being new to not only Lee but the Cleveland area, I frequently find myself at odds with directions, knowledge of helpful places such as barber shops, and the dramatically slower pace of life — and, more importantly, driving — associated with the south.
Still, my memories of good times back at home give me some small amount of satisfaction. As I watch one of my favorite videos on youtube, I am reminded of my friends and I huddled around a computer screen, laughing uncontrollably at the ridiculousness of Bernstein’s Diet Pills.
Even if I am the only one making fun of your driving on the way to school, it gives me pride to say that I am from Detroit, where the weak are killed and eaten.