Watching seniors do something wild and whispering “that’ll be us.”
WATCHING SENIORS DO SOMETHING WILD AND WHISPERING “THAT’LL BE US.”
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Remember those early days? Fresh-faced, wide-eyed, strolling through hallowed quads, observing the upperclassmen. They seemed like mythical creatures, embodying a freedom and knowledge we hadn't yet grasped. You’d see them, whether it was a cacophony of primal screams echoing across the campus before finals, a bizarre ritual involving peculiar outfits, or a whispered legend about clandestine gatherings, and a silent thought would always form: "That'll be us."
These weren't just quirky antics; they were the threads of a tapestry woven through generations. Some traditions, like the midnight yells or the oddball spring celebrations, we participated in grudgingly, perhaps even hating them in the moment, fueled by sleep deprivation or academic stress. Others, like the hushed excitement surrounding certain elusive societies or the shared pride in obscure rites of passage, drew us in with an irresistible pull. We didn't always understand them, but we knew they were part of the experience.
Then, almost overnight, we became those seniors. We were the ones leading the primal screams, initiating the next generation into the strange, beloved rites. And now, looking back, it's those very traditions, even the ones we swore we despised, that we find ourselves unexpectedly missing. The chaos, the camaraderie, the sheer absurdity of it all – it forged a bond that transcends degrees and decades. It’s a silent nod among those who know, a shared understanding of a time unlike any other. What traditions did you not expect to miss?
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