You Never Know What You'll Find Unless You Look

A couple of my buddies asked me if I'd like to go with them on a service trip to Honduras.  I had no idea what to expect, but nevertheless, late last Monday night I was on a plane, passport in hand.  I don't think it's a worthwhile exercise to detail the work we did here, but this past week has certainly changed my perspective on the student body at Emory.

Before the flight, I hadn't spoken to half the people that would soon be my partners in blood, sweat, and everything in between.  Rarely at Emory have I encountered a group of 18 individuals that I can relate to in any sort of meaningful way.  This one was different.

Many of the participants were pre-meds, so we've never shared any classes.  A few graduated last weekend and we'd never held a conversation before.  I've spent three years in Atlanta, yet I had to leave the country to meet most of these people for the first time.

It's amazing to me, that at a school with just over 6,000 students, it is so easy to define yourself by something as arbitrary as a major or a few Greek letters.  This week has made it abundantly clear to me that there are a lot more good people at Emory than I once thought, and I just haven't found them yet.

The truth is, I've closed myself off to most of the student body.  My Freshman year, it felt like I met a million people, and after that, I really just stopped trying.  So, I guess what I'm getting at is that sometimes Emory can feel like a very small place, even exclusive.  It's up to you to find the people who share your values.  It turns out sitting in my apartment with the same four people wasn't the most effective method, but as they say, hindsight is 20/20.

Nevertheless, I passed all my classes, so Senior year is upon me.  It should be an exciting moment, but up to this point I was ambivalent, at best.  My Emory experience has certainly had its ups and downs.  This week was a breath of fresh air, and it couldn't have come at a better time.