By Amanda S. Halm

In my almost 25 years on the planet, I have only come to one fundamental conclusion which has propelled me through times of great uncertainty. No matter how embarrassing, tough, or chaotic a situation is, it most likely will not kill me. This personal proverb was used on a sunny day in July of 1999, as my Mom drove me to my freshman orientation at Lewis University.

At the beginning of the summer my brother warned me that if I did not make friends at orientation I could end up eating and sleeping alone for the next four long years. Being somewhat of a nerd in high school and not wanting to spend college with my head down and boyfriendless, I prepared by ditching my more gothic duds for a trendy-at-the-time, blue Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts. In my mind this slight surface renovation was equal to a geek-to-chic Jenny Jones makeover. I planned to talk to everyone within a two foot radius and to try to run with a cooler crowd.

Upon my arrival, my roommate for the night had already chosen a bed and marked this by putting her bag on it. She was from St. Louis and her name was Patti. She had spiky reddish hair, colt-like long legs and I hated her on sight. I sensed her disdain for me right away. We would never be friends. I was merely her pathetic, Hawaiian shirt wearing orientation roommate.

Patti, being naturally pretty and self-assured wanted to venture outside and meet people. Within five minutes of walking out the door, she met a sunny blonde girl who like Patti, was going to be on the volleyball team. The two chatted about volleyball, and I attempted to join in the conversation with an incomprehensible mumble about watching volleyball on ESPN. The two stared at me and went on with the sports conversation.

Already snubbed by Patti, I started thinking strategically. I sat next to the volleyball players tried to look like I belonged there. I was then approached by Jill who was in my AP English class in high school. Much as I wanted to, I would not be able to shake the nerdy me because Jill was right there to remind me of who I was before this orientation.

Jill and I clung to each other for the next couple of hours for support. Unfortunately, unlike me, Jill would not have to spend the night in the social wilderness left to fend for herself. She could leave the campus, sleep in her comfortable home and not have to worry about the “dorm parties” I was sure would occur that night.

My stomach was full of butterflies as we floated from one activity to the next. I met and hung out with many groups of people but with every activity I felt more and more alone.

Cast as a nerd, the orientation was making me feel like college was a giant high-school sleepover that I was forced to attend. To my dismay, I was right to be anxious about the parties that night. In the room across the hall from me everyone was loudly playing Euhker, a card game I had never played.

I heard one of the guys ask Patti, “Where is your roommate?”

She answered, “In the room …”and then her voice trailed off.

Gee, Patti maybe I was waiting for an invite or something, I thought to myself.

“She’s quiet, I tried to talk to her and she would barely say anything.” the unknown guy said. This was affirmation that I had failed at my mission to make memorable conversation. I was surprised the guy even asked where I was.

“I know.” She said.

“Hang on guys, I’ll be right back.” And then she came in got her key and when I expected her to invite me, she walked out. When she went back into the Euhker party, I distinctly heard her say,

“Okay, she’s just sitting at her desk and like, staring at her key.”

“Oh, that is weird,” said unknown guy.

That is when I knew that I received a failing grade for trying to be beautiful and confident. Instead, I was branded as the weird girl who stared at her key alone in her room. I cried with the lights out, thinking all sorts of terrible things about myself and of course, Patti.

I questioned why I couldn’t just be made pretty and why other people hesitated to get to know me. I also questioned why I couldn’t be born a tall volleyball player, and then cursed my short stature and lack of coordination. Mostly, I cursed Patti for making me feel like I could never be socially graceful and that I would always be a nerd.

When I actually left home to attend school, there were many friendly faces to welcome me there. The freshman that I met at orientation remembered me and started coming up and talking to me my first day there. Throughout the four years, I went through many ups and downs with roommates, friends, and boyfriends.

I realized a lot about myself especially within the first year. I could never change who I was. Maybe I couldn’t be pretty or maybe I was and didn’t realize it. It didn’t matter because I was a person who had intelligence, talent, and most important, compassion.

I would never gossip about a person I had just met the way Patti did to me. It is my belief that everyone has something to bring to the table. Ideally, everyone should at least be invited to play a hand or two. The key to surviving the tough times when you aren’t allowed to play, when you feel isolated from family, roommates, friends, and boyfriends, is that it won’t kill you. Keep in mind that without the bad times, you would be unable to feel the good and the Pattis of the world exist not to remind you of what you don’t have, but what you do.

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