There’s a host of phrases that describe the feeling of a recently graduated Corban University student: “Thank God I’m done,” “Where’d the time go?” and maybe the most prevalent feeling of all…
I’ve been closely tied to Western Baptist, Corban College, and now CU for almost nine years: The first five as a professor’s kid…the last four as a rebel-rousing student.
Now, save for the fact that my youngest sister is a freshman (hands off baseball players, yes I will hunt you all down)–and my mother’s on-campus status as “the lady behind the desk in the library”–my connection to Corban has withered away significantly in mere months… wait, did I really graduate in June? (Yes, Wow).
It’s an interesting feeling to be no longer directly infused in the everyday life of Corban. No academic responsibilities, no need to describe myself as “the guy who plays violin in chapel…” no more…nothing.
I’ve never been much for “transitions” – I still keep in contact with my high school teachers and frequent my alma-mater’s football games. Why? Because I know that any connection at all is worth maintaining. Now bearing the “wise and mature alumni of Corban University” designation, I find myself constantly remembering Dr. Trammell’s class discussions, Dr. Scott’s witty musings, and Dr. Tennant’s …. well, just about everything about her is memorable.
Those words, thoughts, and little nothings, all carry so much weight when class on Monday never comes again.
Corban was many things to me: a refuge, a community, a bubble, and even at times a hell that had to be conquered by individuals looking past their differences and coming together in Christ. I gained an education, but more importantly, I grew up in four short years amongst the asbestos-laced pipes of the AC, the sweltering temperatures of the library, and the long walks to Davidson from the bottom of the hill…