Finally I can write of Augustine

Whether it is because Augustine is far enough, but still close or because I have finally had the freedom and ability to process, I am finally sitting down to begin some thoughts on my experience at Augustine College, Ottawa, CA. I apologize with my stumbling sentences and my even more discombobulated paragraphs.

It's hard to seem that freckled, little thing of a woman was only sixteen when she got on a flight and left everything and everyone she knew. She sat through philosophy, history, literature, trivium, greek, etc. Those three hour classes were deep, thought proving, and left her brain stunned. But it wasn't the classes that changed her the most. It was after the classroom, after running a block in the cold, after running up the stairs, that the major struggles and growth took place. It took place in the little apartment of 19th Monk Street.

I can still remember day one of living together. We were all sitting around the table that we would call ours for the next seven months and somehow I had brought up the subject of contraception. The debate that followed had jolted me awake from my illusion that Augustine attracted catholic, conservative, and entirely orthodox. Day by day passed, and day by day, personalities and opinions clashed. Tension rose because of miscommunication and lack of open appreciation for members of the house. Hostility continued to mount, and it was only around the late November/beginning of December that any major steps were taken to restore emotional order within our house. Through many confrontations and late night talks, I left in December feeling that most of the tension was dissolved. February was the first time the house felt home and we all opening cared about one another. There were more struggles on the way and much hurt, but by the end of the year I could say I loved each and every one of the members of 19th Monk Street.

I grew up in those months. When you are forced by situation and by love to master your own desires and let another person squash, bake, and eat you, you learn that there are more important things in life than what you want. I went into Augustine thinking school. Two weeks crushed that thought. School won't support you when your life is falling apart. School isn't going to help you back on your feet when the homework load is crushing you. People will. I think that most of the struggles within our house would have been avoided if we had bothered to spend a bit of the day to spend time with one another. We didn't value each other because we had never stopped to think there was something worth valuing. Personal life was personal, and few bothered to actually become part of one's personal life. The attitude was "We'll have time to get to know each other later. School is more important right now.". And while I understand the importance of school and good grades, I also realize the importance of a person and the value of a relationship. I could have spent more time getting better grades. I wasn't the top student, I wasn't even close. But I don't regret those nights I spent with different people and building friendships of people who needed me and I needed them. If I had taken the time I spent with people and give it to better grades, I would have been miserable and they would have been miserable too. I've heard it said "Love makes the world go 'round". I'm rather inclined to believe it.

Perhaps none of this makes any sense, but writing it down helps my tiny brain to make some sense of it all.

Leaving Augustine was tough. Everything I had worked toward for the past seven months was stripped away in one moment. Those people I loved were gone, all that work I had fevered over was gone, everything seemed gone. And then what does one do with that life? You go home, you unpack your bags, and you try to fit back into a life that was once called yours. People would say "You're back! How was Canada?" and your mind floods with memories. "Canada was great" you say and you begin to start to talk of what has filled your life and your head for seven months. Their eyes glaze over, they look bored. You learn quickly not to say anything. Why bother? They get bored, they tire of hearing things they can't relate to, they can't share. Everyone's moved on without you; they have their own lives now, lives filled with experiences you weren't there to share, friends you don't know. It's fine, you tell yourself, just choke it all back. Bury those memories, and lose the shovel. You watch your friends grow closer to others, farther away from you. You're truly happy for them, but so miserable for yourself. You say "Suck it up. You're being selfish".

And, alas, I know I am. What's the solution? Become part of my friends lives? Well, that easier said than done when you live in a place called Berrien Center, MI far from Canada, Philadephia, or Indiana.

And I'm human. I can only do so much and still have a life. Or I could just stop writing a complaining blogpost, and be thankful for the friends I do have and the communication I do have.

For internet communication is better than nothing.