Realizing upperclassmen were watching you the whole time.
REALIZING UPPERCLASSMEN WERE WATCHING YOU THE WHOLE TIME.
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Remember those first dizzying days? The campus a blur of new faces, new rules, and an overwhelming sense of belonging and not belonging all at once. Orientation was a whirlwind of workshops, awkward mixers, and forced fun designed to strip away your high school persona and mold you into… well, whatever an Ivy League first-year was supposed to be. We stumbled through traditions, some bizarre, some beautiful, eager to prove ourselves worthy.
But beneath the surface of all that nervous energy, there was always that quiet hum of awareness. A lingering feeling, a subtle shift in the air that suggested we weren’t just experiencing our new reality; we were being observed. Did you ever catch them, those upperclassmen, lurking at the edges of the quad, perched on library steps, or blending into the background during a seemingly spontaneous first-year chant? Their knowing smiles, the almost imperceptible nods, the way their eyes followed your every clumsy attempt to navigate the social labyrinth.
It wasn't hostile, not usually. More like an assessment. They’d already walked these hallowed paths, endured their own initiations. Were they judging our earnestness, our naiveté, our Primal Scream efforts? Or were they just relishing the nostalgia, remembering their own awkward beginnings? Perhaps they were scouting for the next generation of campus leaders, or even, dare we say, quietly evaluating potential candidates for those whispered-about secret societies. That constant, gentle gaze was a tradition in itself, a silent welcome to the fold.
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