I don’t know how I almost missed the bus.
I woke up in my dorm room. I’d planned ahead for coffee and coordinated a shower with my suitemates (six women, two showers, two sinks, one toilet — no small task!) before the long bus ride, setting my alarm in plenty of time. Coffee and breakfast went swimmingly. I thought I was good. I returned to my dorm room to put the final touches on my travel gear.
Confidently packed and organized, I stepped out into the hallway to meet my ~30 high school and college counselors peers as we embarked on our first full day of a whirlwind weeklong 10-college tour.
Only — nobody else was there.
I stood with my luggage in the hallway. Alone.
Did I miss the bus?
I adjusted my carry-on strap to cross-body and ran with my roller bag toward the street.
Thankfully, the bus hadn’t yet pulled away. Ted (as I came to know the driver’s name during the week) gave me both a fist-bump and a hard time for being late. (He jokingly did this for the rest of the trip. Ted was The. Best.)
I boarded the bus to face the same scrutiny and apprehension as if I were the last to board an aircraft: Please don’t sit by me. Please don’t sit by me. Please don’t sit by me. Nobody wanted to share a seat.
The very last row in the bus, still empty, called out to me, and as it turns out, it was the perfect place for me. I could lie flat with somewhere to brace my feet, and I had a window to the world all my own. I could sit up during the drive and engage with others, or I could comfortably retreat into my own space. I’m an Aquarius, so I need both; the back seat got me.
Midway through the week, the back seat of the bus turned out to be the most dangerous. (Spoiler: I’m fine.) As we toured a college, landscapers outside blew the back window of the bus out with a weed-eater. Apparently, my beloved seat was the worst casualty, with a large shard of glass and a gazillion tiny pieces scattered across the area. I wasn’t allowed to sit there anymore, and the state police encouraged me to wear eyeglasses and face forward for the next leg, as I sat with a colleague who was happy to double under the circumstances.
As we waited for our replacement bus, the school that was expecting us dispatched its own private vehicles to pick us up. People helping people. Things happen. Life is messy. We do what we can to flex and help one another. College shows us how to find the best version of ourselves through social and academic growth, but it also shows us how to step up and serve those in need.
My wish for all of my students has always been that when the worst thing happens, they find that a door closed opens another door. It happens more often than we know, and the universe is shockingly intuitive. The college application process is ripe with examples.
My personal project last week was to take photos on campus that speak to me — not necessarily the ones that land in a glossy campus brochure. I have the equipment, credentials, and knowledge to take those brochure photos — but that’s not what I was looking to do this trip. I wanted to show students that every campus speaks to each of us differently. I faced many constraints: I couldn’t alter the image, I couldn’t use artificial lighting (strobe or flash), and I couldn’t delay or hold up the tour to get the shot.
I hope you enjoy seeing the week through my lens.
In the weeks ahead, I’ll post all my campus visits, notes that I took, and images I captured. I learned: there are so many great colleges and universities out there! It’s amazing how each one offers students something different. Last week, I toured 10; there are more than 6,000 in the U.S.
You be the judge. Find what speaks to you.
Stay tuned for images from Hendrix College, Lemoyne-Owen College, Mississippi State University, Philander Smith University, Rhodes College, University of Arkansas, University of Central Arkansas, University of Memphis, University of Mississippi, and University of the Ozarks.