As a California native, I made the bold — and perhaps regrettable — decision to apply to colleges somewhere with seasons. My idealistic 17-year-old self had a vision: a fall of cable-knit sweaters and orange leaves crunching beneath my feet like in “Gilmore Girls” (2000–07), and magical snow blanketing my historic college town in the winter.
It is human nature to care about how others perceive us. We curate ourselves based on those expectations, learning early on what earns love and attention and what does not. You were told you were the funny one, so now you are afraid people will judge you if you are serious. You have always assumed you were bad at math because you were never placed into the accelerated math class in third grade (might not be over that one).
I will admit it — I have always been a hopeless romantic. Despite what the data says about fewer young people having romantic relationships, or the fact that dating apps make finding a connection as simple as a tap, I will forever be waiting for that moment of bumping into the person of my dreams on the T — or for Hugh Grant to spill orange juice on my white shirt like in “Notting Hill” (1999).
Picture this: It is 9 p.m. on a Tuesday, and a room on campus is packed with Greek life members, Japanese Culture Club representatives, Tufts Wilderness Pre-Orientation leaders and student athletes from a Spanish class. What could have drawn them all together?
Although my English paper felt the consequences, I discovered what would become one of my favorite places on the Tufts campus: the Digital Design Studio. The studio, within the Digital Scholarship department, offers a variety of services that are available for Tufts students, faculty and staff.
