Existing In Memory

Kyle Hilbrecht
Class of 2018

I was one of the few people that I know of that was not that excited to come to college. I am sure there were those out there who were not vocal about their trepidation; even I masked my feelings when asked about college. The standard replies were, “Yes I am excited. No I don’t know what I want to major in. Yes I know I have time.” I felt like wearing a shirt with these three phrases written across the front.  The reason I was so anxious was that I was comfortable. I had a job, more freedom than I had ever could have asked for, a great relationship, and time for myself. I felt like I was on solid ground. I had reached the end of my high school career and had not started to think about my next step. The next step was a scary one. It was a step into the dark, across the threshold, and into the real world. I was sad to leave my old life behind. I did not know what the future would hold; all I knew was that all of the people that I had built my life around were going into their own futures as I went off into mine. I wanted to stop time and stay there; however, no amount of time would have been enough.

The end of the summer came and I said some extraordinarily sad goodbyes. I didn’t know what the future had in store for me. That first week of college was the most vulnerable I have felt in a long time. I had to wear a mask and trick myself into feeling that I was in fact okay and that I had finally arrived. After all, his was the big thing that I had been waiting on for four years, right? I was in finally in college, but it felt different than advertised. It felt different from the “best four years of your life” that I had been hearing about for a very long time. After a while though, I gave up my ruse. The thing about wearing a mask is that it is pretty hard to breathe in. I decided to just open up and be myself and I found myself surrounded by people who were looking to do the same. I was fortunate enough to have been already introduced to ten exceptional freshmen and have a network of thirty or so more people to look to support, and I am thankful that the McConnell Center granted me that. So I picked myself up and moved on and was happy to be accompanied by my new network of friends; friends that I would have long talks with and late nights with. Friends that I looked to for support and who looked to me for support. Muddling my way through my first semester college, I find these people essential in finding that solid ground again, and I think I am on my way there.

We cannot reach into the past; our arms are not long enough.  We cannot take the past with us either; we cannot carry that heavy a load. We must shed the comforts of the past and move forward. Let them only exist in memory. That is the only way that we will grow. We must continue our journey and help the people that walk the same road we are on. We are all walking into the dark, so let us all walk there together.

Kyle Hilbrecht is a freshman McConnell Scholar studying political science. He is from Louisville, Ky.