Making the transition to life as a Bronco

By Kandace Arens

Whew. We made it.

After a full year's preparation (and in some cases, much longer), we did it. We're here. We did the research, took the SATs, wrote the essays, got the letter, took the tours and, finally, made the decision.

The check was sent, the shopping carts were filled, the bags were packed.

And somehow, after plane flights and car rides and endless map consultations, we walked on campus for the first time as students of Santa Clara.

We moved in among a whirlwind of confusion, busy with all that is required to adjust. Where are my classes? Who is this person I'm suddenly living with? What do you mean I'm only graded on my midterm and final? How far is that house down Lafayette again?

I started off every day saying to myself: This is the first Monday of college, my first Wednesday night, my first weekend -- a reverse practice of what I started doing near the end of senior year.

I'm sure everyone had that kid who, after every occasion in high school, said something to the effect of, "This is the last ____ we will have together." Yeah, that was me.

But now, a few weeks have passed. Our families really are gone. Things are slowing down to a certain extent, and, as an old teacher of mine once said, "The honeymoon phase of the school year is over."

We're settling in again, finding a pattern. We're learning just how long it takes to run across campus to our 8 a.m. Thursday class so we can keep sleeping as long as possible.

My life has suddenly turned upside down, and I'm happy to go along with the ride.

We're all in the same boat here. We've been abruptly uprooted, and now it's time to nestle in again for another four years.

But honestly, it's still a little surreal. Part of me still expects to wake up in my bed every morning to my mother's shrill cries of, "Get up! You're going to be late!"

Now, instead, I awake to the beeping of my cell phone's alarm clock or to my roommate trying to quietly blow dry her hair (which, I'll let you know right now, isn't possible, though I appreciate the attempt).

Instead of stumbling two feet to my family bathroom, I am forced to make my way down the hall, fumbling for my keys.

I'm still confused as to when I became an 18-year-old college student.

Part of me still feels like I'm seven, and I'm sure the guys yelling at their video games every night down the hallway can relate.

It's weird for me to think that in four short years I'll be thrust out into the working world and that some people my age have already experienced that.

But as for now, I'll just settle in and enjoy it. Say hello to a few people I've never met before. Take a chance. Step out of my safety zone.

Congrats, class of 2011. Here's to the beginning of a great first year.

Kandace Arens is a freshman theatre arts major.