Rediscovering the Familiar

Written by Lauren HartmanPhotograph by Tori TisoAs we go about our daily lives, hurrying from one academic building to the next, heads down while we consider every paper we have to write and quiz we have to study for, it can be easy to take our campus for granted. Lake Mendota sunsets don’t take our breath away anymore. Long lines at the dining halls inspire annoyance rather than excitement at the hubbub of student life. The walk up Bascom Hill is a chore, no longer an opportunity to admire the stately building at its peak. However, my sixteen-year-old sister’s visit to Madison this weekend offered me the chance to get reacquainted with the campus I have begun to take for granted and to see it in the way I used to. From the minute my sister and her friend stepped out of the car and into the thick of downtown Madison, they took in their surroundings with a sense of wonder.  They gaped at the sight of the luminous State Capitol building looming over a darkened State Street. They moaned at their first taste of late-night Ian’s mac ‘n’ cheese pizza. They marveled at the student section’s ability to holler a notoriously foul cheer back and forth, laughing at how they are unable to cheer “USA!” at their high school football games… not because of the country, but because of the potential secret meaning of the cheer (i.e. “You suck…” for those of you who are as ignorant of high school football cheers as I am).  As I showed the girls around campus, snapping photos of them sitting in an oversized yellow terrace chair at Memorial Union and spouting off quirky facts about the school, I began to see my familiar surroundings in their eyes. I admired the awe-inspiring architecture of Science Hall. I perused the shelves of the Bookstore, allowing myself to be sucked in by the sea of red Badger gear in front of me. I squealed during Jump Around as though it was my first time feeling the earthquake under the weight of 80,000 people jumping on Camp Randall’s bleachers. I felt like a high school senior again, exploring the campus for the first time. As I brushed my teeth after that football game, my sister and her friend nestled safely in the couches in my living room, my ears protesting at the silence of my apartment in comparison to the ear-shattering cheers of the stadium, I remembered what it was like to experience college life for the first time. I remembered the idealism and the jittery excitement and the eagerness to meet new people and experience new things. And, as I walked to class on Monday, the campus seemed to gleam a little brighter, as though smug at the fact that I was finally paying attention to it.