Making friends during a forced group game.
MAKING FRIENDS DURING A FORCED GROUP GAME.
Follow along for more reflections on the quirky traditions that shaped us.
Remember those first days? A whirlwind of unpacking, nervous introductions, and then, the inevitable: the dreaded orientation group game. We all stood there, a little too smart for our own good, perhaps a touch cynical, definitely skeptical. "Icebreakers," they called them. More like "awkwardness-inducers," we thought, secretly rolling our eyes as we were instructed to pass a rubber chicken without using our hands, or tell a stranger our deepest fears while balancing a spoon on our nose.
It felt contrived, forced, almost demeaning for minds trained to dissect Kant or solve complex algorithms. Yet, wasn't there a strange magic in it? In those moments of shared, unadulterated absurdity, barriers subtly crumbled. The brilliant biochem major tripped over her own feet, the future diplomat awkwardly fumbled a beach ball, and in the shared laughter, a tiny crack appeared in our polished veneers. We saw each other, not as future titans of industry or academic prodigies, but as human beings, equally flustered and occasionally ridiculous.
These weren't the profound intellectual debates we came for, nor the solemn rituals of ancient societies. But these silly, often-hated games, designed to push us out of our comfort zones, often seeded the very friendships that would sustain us through all-nighters, existential crises, and triumphant breakthroughs. They taught us that sometimes, the most authentic connections begin in the most inauthentic-seeming situations. What seemingly hated tradition actually forged some of your closest bonds?