In our Discipleship Small Group Cabinet retreat at the beginning of my senior year, five other Wheaton College seniors and I decided that the biggest problem facing students was loneliness. I’ll never forget what one of the Cabinet members said about it. He said that loneliness was often the root cause of all the bad behavior/painful feelings that go on in college.
I was told that this year would be incredibly lonely at times. My roommates of four years, my professors who I trusted, my mentors, my small group, and my church of which I had just become a member (Church of the Resurrection!) would become memories, and I would have to make the transition to an adult life (read into this: loneliness).
The night before I graduated, I made a quick run to Walgreens on Main Street, and as I was turning onto Harrison Street to return to my off-campus house, I began weeping. “This is the last time I will turn onto Harrison as a college student” I thought. As I was dramatically weeping/exhaling loudly, I felt an incredible loss. I could not imagine life without my beautiful friends, my community in Wheaton, my FAMILY.
The people who told me that this year would be incredibly lonely at times were right. The transition is difficult- and at times I have felt un-known by nearly everyone I came into contact with.
So, it is surprising to me that my students have become part of my community here in Dothan. One of my students told me today “Ms. Johnson, you know you love our class best.” He was trying to manipulate me into giving them a free day (teenagers never manipulate grown-ups, right?)
He continued: “When second period comes into your class, you tense up and you look like you are dreading it. But, when we come in during fifth period, a big smile comes across your face. And that’s because you like us best.” Then, another one of my students chimed in, “I look forward to this class every day. I’m not just saying that.” Then, she said “Ms. Johnson, we know you are just waiting to see what we have to say today. You are always so surprised by what we say. You know you love us.”
They are right. I do love them. They can read my expressions (not like that’s ever been hard- right roomies??) And, I can read their expressions too. We are getting to know each other.
They may have the strongest southern accents I have ever heard, and they may never understand why I chose to go to a college a thousand miles away from the home of the National Peanut Festival and the Azalea trail, but I think they may know me.
These are thoughts from a (currently broken) swingset.
