I drove 55 mph on Interstate 35, not because I loved to see disgruntled drivers glare at me as they passed, but because my refrigerator obstructed most of my rearview mirror. Even if my fridge wasn’t creating the perfect blind spot, the amount of possessions I packed was seriously weighing my car down. So I drove my Grand Am safely, which actually meant I drove about as fast as a running tortoise.
But I didn’t care. I was much too excited about starting a new chapter in my education: the jump from a junior college to a university.
Baker University seemed like a perfect fit for me. This college has a quaint campus full of trees and beautiful buildings, good academic programs and financial aid packages. Since I graduated from Cowley County Community College, I looked forward to becoming a Baker Wildcat.
As soon as I unlocked my residence hall room door and saw the smallest room I’ve ever had to live in, I wanted to go back home. I couldn’t believe that my jam-packed car was more spacious than my new room.
My sudden contempt toward Baker increased as the day went on.
The first snafu occurred when I was trying to get back inside my building. In the sweltering heat, I stood by the front entrance, sliding my student ID card in the hopes that the next slide would magically open the door. I finally resorted to kicking the door until someone let me inside.
Then I couldn’t figure out how to install cable to my TV. It took me forever to figure out that all I needed to do was change a few menu settings, simply described in the owner’s manual. Unfortunately, I couldn’t actually read the owner’s manual because the electricity was out most of the night.
The next morning I wanted a warm shower; an event, I thought, that would put me in a much better mood. A great theory, if only the hot water worked. Twenty minutes later, I decided to stop waiting for the water to warm up and took a cold shower.
After that, I did the most sensible thing: I tearfully called my mom to tell her that I made a big mistake coming here.
My mom told me that I needed to adjust to my new surroundings. If I didn’t like Baker by the end of the school year, I could transfer to another college.
Although I hated that advice, I followed it anyway. I decided the best way to adjust was to socialize with others. I’m rather outgoing, but I still felt like an awkward junior high kid finding a seat in the cafeteria.
That feeling has ebbed away as I’ve gotten to know more people around campus. Playing frisbee and intense Uno games has given me a sense of belonging.
Every day I’ve been here, the more assured I feel. I now know where important buildings around campus are located and have made friends.
What still unsettles me is the apparent lack of organization during Welcome Week.
As a transfer student, I was told that I was required to attend a group meeting. When I arrived, I was told that a transfer meeting wasn’t taking place. I spent thirty minutes watching the freshman be divided into groups for no reason.
Of all the events, the worst by far was enrollment confirmation. I stood in various lines for nearly three hours, and endorsing a loan check was the only thing I accomplished.
I understand that life does not go according to plan, but the chaotic atmosphere during welcome week left me with a bad impression.
If the “welcome back” events are disorganized, what other campus entities will be? After all, the campus should be impressing incoming students, not causing them increased frustration. Moving to a new place makes many anxious, and the chaos that existed did not make their situations any better.
I’ve gotten over my terrible move in day. I have rationalized that it is a part of life. Welcome Week, however, will be on my mind as I make my decision on whether or not to drive my crammed car back next August.
