Words of Warriors Reflections from a Windy Classroom
“This isn’t how I expected my last semester at Westmont to go,” I reflected, as my papers swirled away from me in the wind and the tent poles above me creaked ominously. I briefly weighed whether or not this tent would blow down a second time; it collapsed during Christmas break, which was why I was sitting in the gym parking lot and not on Winter lawn. “I’d give it a 30 percent chance,” I decided.
While I continued my musings, the fast-paced rock music from the swim team’s practice was momentarily upstaged by the BANG of the second whiteboard falling over—almost on top of poor Professor Gurney, who, I could see, was rapidly starting to wish for the peace and quiet of Zoom. She was trying to hold her computer in one hand and the $1,000 TV stand in the other. Oh, and the stand was missing a wheel.
My thoughts became even more philosophical as another dozen of my classmates’ papers chased a life of freedom and adventure. I considered such questions as, “How did I end up here?,” “How many natural disasters can happen in one spot in four years?,” and “When did they say the next big California earthquake is supposed to happen?”
After another few minutes of unmitigated chaos, Professor Gurney surrendered to the inevitable and let class out early. As I left the tent, teeth chattering, hair windswept, and hands permanently smelling like bleach, I did not feel any panic. I didn’t feel frazzled. “Is this what they call ‘resilience’?” I wondered.
My dear class of 2021: we’ve been through a lot. Fire. Flood. Asbestos. Pandemic. Even a tiny earthquake.
To everyone else: Yes, our four years were just as crazy as we make them sound.
I’m proud of all of my fellow Westmont students for how we’ve handled this insane year. We’ve worn masks, used a ludicrous amount of hand sanitizer, and put up with innumerable awkward Zoom silences. Everyone has handled this impressively well, but the seniors have excelled. Why? I’ll tell you the secret to our unflappability, our calm, our resilience.
After the most insane four years of our lives, we’ve all become John Mulaney:
Only three months until we graduate, class of 2021.
What could go wrong?