by Byung Yo (Taylor) Kim ’19, Opinion Contributor
With the semester halfway over, I am beginning to unexpectedly mourn the end of my senior year. Although I am content with my life on campus, I am still eager to leave. This year is the last time I will be trapped in an enclosure of four years’ worth of memories, forced to confront and relive them during my waking hours. There is no escape from painful memories on this campus. There are only so many places you can go, so many different adjustments to your daily routine you can make before you run into the past.
I am thankful for the forced confrontation because I have no choice but to feel my emotions and process my experiences, but I am looking forward to the respite of a new location without so many memories embedded within it.
On this campus, I have gone through traumatic friend breakups, the awkward and slow fading of relationships, and embarrassing attempts at hookup culture. As I walk from class to class, I see people who remind me of my past and who I used to be, regardless of who I am now. When I see an old acquaintance who no longer says hi, an old hookup who never looks my way, and various other strangers who have witnessed my embarrassing moments, I’m limited and frustrated to have the past trail around me as I try to move forward.
I do the same to others as well. I ignore those I no longer talk to regularly, remind people of painful moments I was a part of, and contribute to awkward moments passing by people you know but do not say “Hi” to.
As I started to attend therapy here on campus, I was able to take my learning outside of the classroom and internalize it. My journey of becoming mentally healthy is the defining characteristic of my college career.
I have learned how to think about myself, how to talk to myself, how to see myself, which are skills that will help me throughout my entire lifetime. I have learned how to think from other people’s perspectives and how to better understand their actions. I am much less anxious about other people’s opinions now than when I first started college, and that has been one of the most freeing growths I have experienced.
I’ve learned to be kind to myself, to cut myself slack when I need it, and to let myself make mistakes. I feel free to be as weird and ugly as I can be, and I’ve learned how to connect with others in a way where our emotions connect and we can feel comfort in our shared experiences.
At the beginning of this year, I was absolutely dreading being on campus for another two semesters. It seemed like an impossible and inescapable task and I kept asking myself if I could opt out. In the height of my panic, I would ask myself how I could get around being here for another year, but as a low-income student on substantial financial aid, I could not afford any alternatives.
But as I have continued therapy and continued to build a life for myself here, I have slowly become happier. I have dear friends I can find comfort in, I am invested in and flourishing in my classes, and I am finding pride in being independent. Ever since freshman year I have been unable to be alone for more than an hour without becoming anxious and depressed, but now I am practicing being happy alone because I see that my friends around me are independent. I am not as dependent on others for my happiness as I once was and I have a better balance between my relationships with others and myself. I know what makes me happy and what does not, what is asking too much of myself, and what is a sufficient challenge.
I still have days when I am crippled by loneliness and feelings of worthlessness but they are becoming less frequent.
I used to look at the people around me and wonder what it is like to be human and I am slowly realizing that it is what I have been all this time.
As proud as I am of myself for pushing through the pain and suffering of mental illness, I argue that the College has more to do to support students during their time here. There isn’t much to do in Clinton besides studying and drinking, especially during the colder months. Once the snow and wind set in, it’s extremely difficult to get sunshine and fresh air. We joke about it, but seasonal affective disorder is not a fun time nor should it be talked about as if it is.
Hamilton should provide more engaging activities for students, especially those who are low-income and do not have the resources to get off campus. That is why I think Liver Lovers and PS4 Club should be funded. I see why we want to be careful with Student Assembly’s budget, but clubs and fun activities aren’t just an extra. They are essential for a balanced and healthy life. There must be room and the resources for leisure and relaxing.
Another component that Hamilton is missing is the lack of “ubuntu” as Gavin Meade ’20 wrote in his article in the Oct. 25 issue of
The Spectator
. As I read his thoughtful and emotional article, I realized that I have experienced the isolation and silent hostility he describes in the student body. We are not a welcoming and warm campus community. Very often we are quick to cast others out of our small tight-knit inner circles of friends and very often I see people revel in the exclusivity of their friend groups.
A small community that is so physically isolated in a harsh environment has no room for coldness in our hearts. It is tempting to shut others out — I have done this countless times — but it only contributes to the unspoken barriers between strangers who run in different circles. The fear of vulnerability, of intimacy, is slowly killing us. I dread the days when the sun sets at 4 PM and the people around me, myself included, are just as biting as the cold.
We do not have to switch off our compassion and humanity to succeed at Hamilton. We do not need to be cold and calculated to maintain stellar GPAs and land coveted internships. We do not need to shut others out to survive. The “work hard, play hard” mentality you find at many elite institutions often creates an environment of “every man for himself,” of a silent competitiveness that impedes vulnerable and emotional human connections from forming. Our intellectualness impedes us from living our lives as feeling creatures.
As I go through my last year here, I am excited by the underclassmen around me who are affecting real, positive change. I’m inspired by students who organize cultural events like Chusuk, are involved with political activism and encouraging our community to participate in our democracy, and are stepping up into leadership positions. Hamilton has improved over the four years I’ve been here and I can only hope it continues to become a community characterized not only by our academics but also by our ubuntu.
