Complaining about mandatory attendance, then missing it.

COMPLAINING ABOUT MANDATORY ATTENDANCE, THEN MISSING IT.

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Remember those early mornings? The chill in the lecture hall, the professor’s drone, and the endless internal debate about whether to just sign in and duck out or grit your teeth through another required session. Mandatory attendance felt like an archaic relic, a nuisance designed solely to make our already packed schedules more restrictive. We’d groan, we’d scheme, we’d collectively sigh as names were called or sign-in sheets circulated. It was a shared annoyance, a common enemy uniting us across disciplines.

But then, something shifted. Years pass, and you find yourself looking back, not with resentment, but with a strange, unexpected fondness. That mandatory presence, ironically, was often the push we needed to discover a new interest, engage in a serendipitous conversation, or simply feel connected to the rhythm of campus life. It wasn't just about showing up; it was about the shared space, the collective experience of learning, even the shared misery. These seemingly mundane obligations, once despised, become a quiet tradition we unknowingly cherished. They anchored us, providing a hidden structure we never realized we’d miss until it was gone. It’s a testament to how the most unexpected parts of our journey become the most poignant.