In the Bubble
By Audrey Uong, Contributing Writer
Coming back to Amherst as a senior after eight months away, I've come to a conclusion: being a senior is like being a first-year all over again, but with more social status and slightly less enthusiasm.

I'm not sure whether it's a symptom of study abroad blues, or simply being a senior, but in many ways I feel disoriented by the Amherst lifestyle and, in some ways, I don't even feel like a part of the campus anymore. I don't recognize half the faces in Val. Buildings have been renovated past former recognition. At parties thrown by people I've known for three years, I feel overwhelmed by the sheer number of unrecognizable faces who have come to chug my friend's cheap beer. I've forgotten the location of certain buildings-which one is Clark and which one is Cooper? I've even forgotten Val's hours-I somehow seem to think that it stays open a half hour longer than it actually does.

A large part of it, I will freely admit, is denial. I still can't believe I'm back at school, and that there's such a thing as homework, essays, classes and theses. Being back on campus has been largely bittersweet: a strange mix of general contentment and slight unease when noticing the ways in which so many familiar routines have taken on unfamiliar twinges. It's slightly disconcerting to relive underclassmen memories in the alcohol-soaked floors of Crossett and Pond, now inhabited by people I don't know.

So much of Amherst seems to be rooted in the past now, instead of a suggestion of what's to come. It's easier to stand by the sidelines, warily watching the underclassmen and being reminded, both nostalgically and sometimes with a bit of embarrassment, of the things I've done and mistakes I've made in the past. So much of me views my time at Amherst as something that happened rather than something that is happening. It is, perhaps, part of the reason why my friend expressed her surprise at my blank walls and completely undecorated room. "This is so unlike you," she said. A small part of me, I think, still believes that I will pack up my room again in a few weeks to go somewhere else.

And while I've been complaining about generally feeling detached from Amherst, and not quite believing that I have to go to class again, I've realized how easy it is to get sucked back into the bubble. When my mom called me a few days ago to chide me for not calling her back, I realized how completely focused on myself I'd been for the past week. All I'd thought about were my own problems, insecurities and feelings plus all of the errands I had to run to get settled back on campus. It is something that most college students fall victim to, but after a summer of being exposed to the "real world," it seems a bit juvenile.

At the same time, my '07 friends have been complaining to me about how they'd kill to be here, about how they'd offer up their limbs for just another year. Everything always seems greener on the other side, I suppose. But watching them in this new environment, with their long work days and fancy suits, I feel like that is a strange world, too. They all seem to be playing dress-up or make-believe, little boys and girls pretending to be adults. Or maybe it's just because I can't see my friends as responsible, hardworking adults.

I think what makes me most uneasy about being here, though, is that after a semester at Oxford and a summer in New York, I feel like being at Amherst has brought my life back to a standstill. After being so anxious about leaving Amherst and its safety net, I now feel like I'm ready for my life to take flight, to go somewhere, to do crazy things and become someone defined by my actions-even if I don't quite know what exactly they will be yet.

I love the fact that this last year at Amherst allows me, for just one more time, to be completely free of responsibility, to have the chance to worry solely about my personal life and my academics. At the same time, however, I'm just starting to realize how much of a fairyland Amherst can be, how removed it can be from the real world and its problems. It is something that can be a blessing when you are younger, but grows more and more into a burden as you get older. Watching the underclassmen, I am reminded time and time again about how exciting college was those first few weeks, the giddiness that comes with being free of your parents and feeling like you could do anything you wanted. It's a great feeling.

I just hope the first-years know how good they have it.

Issue 02, Submitted 2007-09-14 18:53:30