About 44 months ago, I arrived at Amherst College. I settled into my two-room double in pre-renovation era South Dormitory. I went on a three-day outing trip with four other freshmen, none of whom I ever spoke more than a handful of words to again (though they all seem to be nice people). I experienced the monotony of Orientation, somewhat appreciating the desire of the administration to ease our transition into college life, but growing increasingly jaded by the hours of diversity talks and squad activities. I went to many parties and drank alcohol for the first time in my life. I spent hours playing video games with my roommate and attended virtually every meal with my floor, fearing loneliness and the possibility of somehow failing to find a social niche. People tended to call these first few weeks "Camp Amherst," but for me this time was absolutely nerve-wracking. I saw it as the few weeks that would determine my happiness for the next four years.

I tried to sum up these feelings in a letter entitled "Don't Let Me Down, Amherst" that I wrote to The Amherst Student for the first issue of Fall 2001. The letter, especially its praise of Valentine food, makes me laugh sometimes at my naïveté, but it also remains the best snapshot I have of what I was like right before the world changed irrevocably about a week and a half later. I was innocent, idealistic and immature, but most of all petrified by the unknown, of four years for which my prior experience offered me no realistic outlook.

It is somewhat rare that such a seminal moment in one's life can be marked by a major historical event, but I believe I became an adult, at least in one respect, in the days after September 11. It wasn't just the emotion that we Americans felt at such a devastating attack, but the reaction I witnessed at Amherst that truly changed me. The self-blame and the self-doubt of the protesters and the speakers (somewhat paradoxically mixed with an almost arrogant belief in the infallibility of these arguments), as if somehow 9/11 were some sign that We were wrong and They were right, set off a personal shift. President Bush's first speech after the attacks, a work somewhat short on substance but filled with well-placed emotion and belief, was another event in that first month that I will never forget, the view of the large projection screen in Merrill forever etched into my mind.

Politics have always made me a bit uncomfortable here at Amherst. Although the College is generally a very open and tolerant place, both the faculty and student body are overwhelmingly liberal. From time to time, I have noticed knee-jerk reactions to certain conservative ideas from both the students and the professors, as if the idea was too repugnant even to dignify with a reasoned response-even if it is supported by a large section of the population. As an avowed moderate, I feel some sympathy toward those on the right end of the political spectrum, who are in fact somewhat of an underrepresented group here on this campus. A balanced environment of debate (rather than the situation we have now, in which only a handful of people make the conservative argument in campus discussion) could do all of us some good.

For all the political discourse, though, political ideology thankfully played a relatively minor role in my Amherst experience. I am definitely appreciative of that, as diversity of political viewpoint has never been a strong suit of this otherwise wonderful college. As time went on I found my "group," composed mainly of my hallmates, confirming to me that it is usually a matter of timing and location that determines our social spheres and not necessarily some deeper factor. I found my major, economics, an academic discipline that I am continually thankful to have chosen. I found my activities, mostly musical, that have helped my development as much as anything else at this school.

But most of all, I found my direction and I found consciousness, the much-maligned concept of the liberal arts education actually beginning to provide me with the tools to discover rather than just regurgitate the professors' ideas (though I must admit that the latter still occurs in my papers from time to time). When I go to law school next year, I am sure that I will be even more grateful to this college for having granted me that transformation.

There are many times my friends and I sit around complaining about Amherst, but in a way we are paying it praise. Most of our criticism is about Valentine's food or the somewhat embarrassing housing situation of our underclassmen years or someone annoying in one of our classes; it usually does not concern our happiness at Amherst, or our satisfaction with our learning or our plans for the future. Thank you Amherst, you didn't let me down.

Moin can be reached at admoin@amherst.edu