As I soaked up the sun on the Brunswick quad this past Ivies Weekend, sipping a frosty brew and playing a lively game of what I will call, "Wed, Bed, or Run Over with a Sled" for decency's sake, I took pause for a moment to soak up a bit of the social scene instead. (Except I didn't so much "pause" the sipping of the frosty brew as much as I aggressively chugged it and then unnecessarily slammed the empty can to the ground. But, I digress.) As I looked around at my fellow Bowdoin students, I suddenly realized why I came to this school, and believe it or not, it had nothing to do with the school- "sanctioned" mid-day binge drinking. As lame as it sounds, I looked around and saw a bunch of friends.
I saw football players, united by their lack of shirts and bounty of both man-chest and unlaced Timberlands. I saw BOCers with their shoeless feet, cuffed Carhartts, and omnipresent scars from the last hike up Katahdin. I saw roommates bonded together by camo tank tops or bright green sweatshirts. Each and every group looked genuinely happy, and I chose to believe that it wasn't just the pre-dinner buzz smiling through.
I've been asked many times whether I believe Bowdoin is a cliquey school, and based on the picture I just painted for you, I might be inclined to answer yes. But on that sunny afternoon, as the DJ's beats got a bit phatter (read: Rihanna's "S.O.S." came on) and the mixed drinks got a bit stronger, I saw hockey guys chatting with football guys. I saw camo shirts among a sea of green sweatshirts and the trendy girls sharing their vintage ponchos with my Polo-clad roommates. The groups mixed, mingled, funneled, hugged, and chugged, and the "cliques" melted away.
And it's not just the alcohol that helps unite various groups of friends here at Bowdoin. The threat of graduation seems to have a similar effect, as does a mutual dislike of a professor two people happen to share, a pre-O trip bond or a freshman dorm connection. Bowdoin is small enough that friendships formed by one person in one group with one person outside of that group impacts everybody in both groups. And I for one love that about this place.
In fact, that's exactly how my motley crew came together during my first year at Bowdoin. A few of us lived on the same floor in Moore Hall, a few more lived just downstairs, a couple sailed together, one was a pre-O friend, and all of a sudden I had people to sit with at brunch, couches to sleep on when my roommate's boyfriend was visiting, and hands to hold back my hair when the Union Street Punch-Out Party got the best of me. And with graduation a terrifying four weeks away, all I want to do is bundle every single one of them up in my Class of 2006 banner and never let go.
You see, as lovely as all that intermingling on the Quad was, at the end of day it always comes back to your closest friends. No, Bowdoin isn't a cliquey school, but yes, it is an environment that is conducive to tightly-knit groups of friends?the people who crawl in to your bed every single Sunday morning and laugh about the freshman year hook-up who you propositioned in anticipation of Ivies, or the article of clothing you left behind in a questionable social house escapade. Their emails make Sunday nights in the library tolerable. They'll buy bikini t-shirt cover-ups and wear them just as proudly as you do, and they bring you your favorite flavor of Gatorade when you're too hung over to walk to the bathroom, much less the union. They are why you come back to Bowdoin every fall and why leaving Bowdoin upon graduation feels so awful.
The fact is, almost everything I've written in my past articles will mean nothing in a few years, with the obvious exception of the Facebook article, which will continue to define my life until the day I die. (Kidding?I hope.) But sooner or later, the awkwardness will fade and eventually I will lose my mad game. (Sike. That will never happen.) What I will always hold on to are the people that made my experiences here possible. No matter how many more years you have at Bowdoin, you don't have enough time left with the friends you make here. So finish that frosty brew, grab your friends, and make some memories, no matter how hazy they end up being. These are the best four years of your life, so share them with the people that matter. I certainly have.