This is part of a series of columns this month written by Arts & Sciences Student Ambassadors.
Prior to moving into my freshman dorm in August of 2022, I had not so much as set foot on Cornell’s campus. Additionally, I hadn’t reached out to any fellow incoming students, nor had I made any attempts to prepare myself for the emotional whirlwind of starting college.
The first few days of orientation were marked by anxiety and a creeping sense of imposter syndrome. I kept asking myself, “Do I even belong here?” Coming from a small rural town myself, Cornell was a fast-paced environment to which I had to adapt.
In those moments, I felt lost. But looking back, I now see that those uncertain beginnings quietly aligned the stars that make up my world today.
During the add-drop period of that first semester, I haphazardly signed up for a host of classes of which I had no prior knowledge, but found myself called to out of sheer academic curiosity. One of those classes was an introductory art history course. I remember sitting alone in the front row on the first day, wondering if I’d carry that same sense of loneliness with me through every lecture.
But as I walked out of that crowded, overheated room, I recognized two familiar faces: one was a soft-spoken girl from my dorm floor, and the other, an extroverted girl I’d crossed paths with during orientation. In the following weeks, I made a conscious effort to sit with them. In a room full of strangers, even the faintest sense of familiarity felt like an anchoring force.
What I didn’t know then was that these two classmates would become two of my closest friends to this day. Through stifled laughter in an otherwise silent lecture hall to cackling loudly together at dining hall tables, I learned quickly that I had found my people. They introduced me to their friends, and slowly, a small circle became a community. When it came to finding housemates to share an off-campus living space for my junior year, there was no doubt about who would be my roommates. The rest, as they say, is (art) history.
Every moment of discomfort, doubt and homesickness shaped the person I’ve become and led me to the life I live now. I wish my freshman self could have known that growth is contingent on discomfort, and that sometimes, being lost is the first step toward being found.
