Holly Kong

Around this time last year, I decided to withdraw from studying abroad … for the first time. It seemed unorthodox for a language major to have so little interest in an opportunity to immerse myself in a culture I appreciate enough to study for four years. Plus, most of my friends were excited about said opportunity, and that was not going to partner well with my extroverted aversion to loneliness. Among the many arguments against my decision were: “The people that make Bowdoin special are going to be gone,” “You won’t reach the same level of foreign language fluency as your classmates,” “There is a world outside of Bowdoin you’d be missing out on.” I was quick—perhaps too quick—to see the merits of those concerns enough to doubt my own, and I backtracked soon after withdrawing.

Spending a semester away from Bowdoin felt like stepping back just as I found my footing. It was only near the end of my sophomore year that I finally felt equipped to handle Bowdoin’s academic rigor. Bowdoin is a great school by most measures, and that’s hard to trade, but the case for going abroad isn’t just about studying; it’s about what you can learn when you’re in another country. For me, the case was for language immersion. There is something to be said about studying a language for the simple joys of the process without chasing ultimate fluency or grand travel ambitions, but I digress. Since the factual pros of studying abroad seemed more rational than my sentimental cons, I once again enrolled in a study abroad program despite my initial resistance.

For the rest of my spring semester, I mourned the many “lasts for a while”: registering for classes from the rich liberal arts curriculum, meeting with professors and communities who had come to understand every corner of my passions and trips to Simpson’s Point in between classes. My lack of desire to study abroad was not because I feared the unfamiliar, but simply because I didn’t want to be abroad. I had grown so fond of the routine I’d built in Maine that I never thought to ask whether the grass might be greener elsewhere until everyone around me did. So, I withdrew from a study abroad program for a second time. I have no regrets.

Navigating a Bowdoin that’s fundamentally different from the one you knew—when nearly half of those who completed orientation with you are gone—forces you to reconsider yourself beyond your usual circles and what makes this place special beyond those who pass through it. Choosing not to go abroad also means navigating familiar spaces differently. In women’s rowing, every other junior was abroad last fall. What first felt like being an outsider became a heightened sense of responsibility for a space where I had once seen myself as one among many. Rather than the ambitionless love of comfort it’s made out to be, not going abroad is an opportunity to reinvent yourself without relying on a blank slate and while carrying the backlog of history from a familiar environment.

The choice is often framed as a binary: go abroad or become a shielded rock untouched by the wider world. Bowdoin offers many, although lesser advertised, opportunities to engage with other communities without giving up a semester on campus: research awards to cover travel expenses (summer, fall and monthly mini-grants), DEI mini-grants, Summer Language Study Program, department-sponsored trips, the Global Citizens Fellowship, Alternative Spring Break and a wide array of postgraduate fellowships. Four years aren’t nearly enough to exhaust the opportunities Bowdoin offers, let alone three and a half.

The most valid reason to stay may simply be not wanting to leave. Many of those who have shaped your core Bowdoin experience might not share that feeling. Navigating campus without them is daunting, but studying abroad also has challenges that are undersold: a smaller selection of courses, unexpected expenses, limited ability to work and a narrower support system. You will hear that studying abroad is inherently more personally enriching and courageous than staying. But there is value in going deeper rather than further and discovering what a place still holds once you break the illusion that you’ve exhausted it. When an overwhelming study abroad culture insists that life-changing experiences are thousands of miles away, staying offers its own opportunity for growth.