I just spent a weekend at Amherst College, celebrating thirty years since my graduation. For much of my time at Amherst, I felt like an outsider, and at the first few reunions I attended, I still felt that way. But I went, and mostly I had fun. Often I missed references to events, to shared memories I did not have, to people I did not know, but there were always some good times.
I spent much of my four years at Amherst in this building, the Kirby Memorial Theater.
I thought twice about going to Reunion this year. After all, I am currently unemployed, and I don’t know what will happen next. My life is not where I thought it would be at this time, and certainly not where I thought it would be last fall when I volunteered to be on the Reunion Committee.
Some of my classmates have already written about what Reunion meant to them, whether in long or short form, or in beautiful blog posts. I’ve spent today reading those, laughing, crying, and writing this post.
In past conversations with classmates and others, I’ve noted what, for me, made my Amherst education so special, and what has kept those friends in my life. Amherst, even for those of us who felt less included, gave us a common language, even a style, in which to discuss the hard things, both personal and not. Though for me, as I chose Amherst without knowing much about it (though my blog post on why seems to have disappeared from the College’s website), I still have moments when I wonder if I made the right choice.
And my takeaway after thirty years? I did the right thing. I will continue to jump in with both feet. I will take the risk. And I will keep going back.
(P.S. In case you’re interested, here’s a post about Amherst I wrote just before my 25th Reunion. I’m linking here as the sit-in mentioned came up during this past weekend.)
Travels With Slippers 