If you were to ask any first-year college student the worst moment of their college journey at Drake University so far, they would say one of two things: the Hubbell Dining Hall food or Welcome Weekend.
Growing up in a small town, just outside of Houston, Texas, when I arrived I was stunned by not only a “cool breeze” but the fact that I was 15 hours away from my hometown. When I looked out into the crowd of incoming students, all from all different walks of life and experiences, I recognized none of their faces besides a few from glances at the admitted students’ Instagram page. Many others and I were stripped of familiarity and left to fight our way through a sea of socially awkward teenagers, having no idea what was going on at any given point of the day.
Our schedule was jam-packed. A list of all the activities any newcomer could need for a week, packed nicely and neatly into an “easy” three-day weekend. The rate of survival depended on your sense of direction, Google Maps, and a written-out play-by-play you had to jump hurdles to get to while it seemed to change hour by hour. Throughout each day that felt more and more like five days packed into one, you were met with the expectation to consistently be “on.”.
I vividly remember the tense silences of no one knowing how to bridge the gap between social groups. An impending fear that these were the make-or-break first impressions that set up our social success for the remainder of your year hung heavy in the air. The person you became in the comfort of your hometown was now under the scrutiny of peer pressure and “fitting in”. The First Year Seminar group assigned to you became your only safety net. A small group of people, who had only met for the first time moments prior, left to attempt to grasp names and faces in an onslaught of icebreakers and two truths and a lie.
When you weren’t stressed about where you were guided next, memorizing building names and locations, or digesting the abundance of information thrown at you, you were given allotted time to “roam free” in field day-like activities with others who were equally stressed and confused. As a result, we were left in a huddle trying to find and cling to forming relationships in order to have someone to do things with.
Amidst the chaos, however, unintentional connections bloomed in their own way. I remember talking with the people on my floor after we would come back, slumped and social battery drained, over the long hours of the day the never-ending events taking place. Unbeknownst to me, these little vents created a space for a relationship to develop and grow. We would sit in the hallways of residence halls talking about nonsense late at night or even prompting ourselves to take our own unguided walk through Dogtown as a breather and debrief from Welcome Weekend. Through these little moments, taken for granted in the bustle of everything, I began to find my group. Maybe it wasn’t a connection formed from similar majors or what colors were chosen for tie-dyed shirts, but they became a unique comfort amongst first-year students just trying to survive through the first half-week of college.
Unbeknownst to all, the overwhelming and draining nature of Welcome Weekend prompted me and many others to bond naturally and unconventionally without it feeling like a pressure to perform. The event itself allowed for those who needed the constant engagement and those who felt overwhelmed by the constant activity to find those of like-mindedness and social battery. No matter how much stress was endured, I do believe that Drake’s Welcome Weekend helps incoming college students form connections and some form of stability, even if it was not the way the schedule prescribed. We were all struggling, but we were able to struggle together.
