By Kim Uslin
Copy Editor
Several weeks ago, I was talking with a friend of mine from high school about our plans for our final semesters of college. We were in the middle of a completely benign conversation about upcoming classes, possible post-grad plans, and other such basics when, out of nowhere, she proffered an idea that I can only describe as a stroke of genius – the freshman year throwback party. She and her friends had been discussing their first year of undergrad, she said, and reminiscing about all of the ways that things had changed, both personally and at their college as a whole. They wanted a way to pay homage to their former selves while at the same time making fun of their naiveté and the ridiculous things they used to do, and thus the throwback party was born. By planning the party, she explained, they were brainstorming ways to relive and revive some of their greatest college memories before heading out into the real world.
Though her memories differ from mine, speaking with my friend immediately spurred all sorts of ideas for my own throwback party. As a senior, I had been vehemently avoiding nostalgia in order to avoid depressing myself, but the idea of a throwback party seemed to be a fun, valid reason to take a trip down memory lane.
My memories from freshman year are surprisingly vivid, especially considering my particularly impoverished- and occasionally fabricated – sense of recollection. I remember so much from my first year at Washington College: the exact outfit I agonized over for move-in day (a regrettable striped polo and knee-length jean short combo), the first moment I truly bonded with my roommate (over the ABC Family classic “The Secret Life of the American Teenager”), the first guy I obsessed over (whose name shall most definitely not be revealed), etc. I was amazed at how quickly everything was flooding back to me. Upon reflection, however, I think what makes all of these memories so clear is their status as “firsts.” We remember freshman year so distinctly because every experience was fresh, new, intimidating, and exciting. It may not have been our best year (though mine was pretty great), but for most of us, it was the year in which we made the majority of our friends and began navigating the college experience.
So what are we planning to do at our throwback party to commemorate this crazy, special year of our lives? Break out some of the ridiculous outfits we used to wear with the hopes of entrancing the new, elusive “college guy” (ridiculous miniskirts and heels, now forgone in favor of jeans, boots, and increased self-confidence), pump up the jams we danced to in I-House like “Dynamite,” “Club Can’t Handle Me,” and “Raise Your Glass,” or even adopt our former personas – I’ll play the insecure Puritan to my former roommate’s classic rock-obsessed, leather-jacket-wearing Dionysus worshipper, both of us giggling in the corner about the objects of our affection. It may even be worth it to extend invites to our former friends, those with whom we have lost touch but still remain a sizable part of our collective WC memory.
In short, we should take this night to revel in a little nostalgia and look back at the changes that got us where we are today. But as tempting as it can be to get stuck in the past, we have to remember that being a senior is, in a way, just as exciting as freshman year. We may not be able to recapture the thrill of the beginning of college, but we can certainly look forward to the excitement of the beginning of the rest of our lives.