10th Night

Me and my roommates at dinner tonight

Here at MC, home of crazy and wonderful and beautiful traditions, we have a special night for seniors. Usually it's 100 nights + the numeral of the year in which you're graduation (i.e., last year was 109th night). For our class, though, we decided to make it 10 nights before graduation (since we're the class of 2010. And just for the record, it is always pronounced "twenty ten" pleaseandthankyou). So, tonight was 10th night. We had a lovely dinner, a speaker, and took a zillion pictures because that's what we do. We laughed, we cried, we talked, and as I looked around the room at the women I've known for the last four years (some for fewer), I marveled at how far I've come.

You see, I arrived at Meredith not knowing anyone except my future roommate; we'd met twice. I was quiet and shy and, even though this school is only a few minutes from my house, I felt like I was going a million miles away. All my friends from high school had gone to other schools and for the first time in my life, I was starting over, not knowing anyone here. A sweet girl by the name of Katie who came and sat down next to me and introduced herself. 4 years later and we're still friends.

I've grown and changed so much in the past 4 years. I came in expecting to graduate engaged and get married shortly after graduation; graduate school or a teaching career were never on my radar. Here I am, 10 days out from graduation, with no engagement ring on my finger. But that's OK. I'm happy with who I am and where I am, which is more important than checking something off my "to-do list" for life. I trust that the right man is out there and I'll find him when I'm supposed to. But I'm not supposed to yet (otherwise, I'd have that ring! Ha!)

When I came to Meredith, I had no idea that I'd develop the relationships with my professors that I have. Even if they're not in my department, they've been loving and supportive. At the beginning of my junior year, I was told that I was not good enough to sing, something that I've struggled with ever since. Encore gave our last performance on Tuesday night and Monday afternoon, I met with Dr. P, our director, because she had given me a solo that I just couldn't get. We got to talking about that situation and she told me that she had confidence in me, but that I needed to do it for me. I took that to heart and practiced like crazy for the next 24 hours or so; right before the concert, our orchestra director was listening to us warm up and run our music. Dr. P asked him what he thought and what he said really struck me. He told us "I could talk about technique or breathing or focus, but I'm not going to. You know all the technical stuff. But when you get up on that stage tonight, look at the women to the right and left of you and know that after tonight, Encore will never be the same. So do it right because of that." Despite a terrible afternoon rehearsal, we sang the best we ever had that night. And I nailed that solo. And it felt good. I'm leaving MC with the knowledge that I can prove anyone wrong, especially people like the person who told me I couldn't sing. I can and I did in front of a room full of people, completely a capella and I did it right. It's a good feeling.

Yesterday was my last day of classes and one professor, who has been my advisor since freshman year, when I declared as an English major, told me that she was a little sad, because she realized that that was the last day she'd ever teach me. Dr. G has pushed me academically and made me expand my horizons in so many ways that I didn't think possible; it was her class in Old English (and then the Chaucer class this semester) that made me want to get a graduate degree in OE and medieval literature. She has inspired me in so many ways and I'm thankful for that and for my relationship with her on a professional level, but also as a friend.

After my last class yesterday (Shakespeare), I stayed for a moment to talk to my professor, to thank him for a great experience in that class. I mentioned that it was my last class of my undergraduate career and he said "But we must finish the play!" (we were reading The Tempest). He got his script and gave me the Epilogue, a monologue by Prospero, to read. I stood in the front of the class and read:

Now my charms are all o'erthrown,

And what strength I have's mine own,
Which is most faint: now, 'tis true,
I must be here confined by you,
Or sent to Naples. Let me not,
Since I have my dukedom got
And pardon'd the deceiver, dwell
In this bare island by your spell;
But release me from my bands
With the help of your good hands:
Gentle breath of yours my sails
Must fill, or else my project fails,
Which was to please. Now I want
Spirits to enforce, art to enchant,
And my ending is despair,
Unless I be relieved by prayer,
Which pierces so that it assaults
Mercy itself and frees all faults.
As you from crimes would pardon'd be,
Let your indulgence set me free.

Then he handed me his rain stick and had me turn it over; when all of the grains had fallen, he told me it was time to go. And it is. But it's nice to know that I will be missed, that I have made an impact on this place that has so impacted me. I'll always have a little bit of MC with me; it's made an indelible mark on my mind and heart. Now, though, it's time to try defying gravity.