A senior’s reflection

“I don’t know why you say goodbye, I say hello, hello, hello!”- The Beatles.

I came to Monmouth my freshman year with a suitcase full of bandannas and a stomach full of knots. After lugging too much stuff up three flights of stairs, my roommate, Amber Ford, and I got cleaned up and nervously walked over to matriculation. Walking up to my orientation group, I can remember how hard I worked to squelch the awkward silence that seemed to dominate the first conversations that day. Suddenly, I heard a buzzing sound coming across Wallace Hall lawn and then, the most god awful notes I had ever heard. I remember turning to one of my new classmates and saying, “This bagpipe/Scots thing is going to get real old, real quick.” Now, that music makes me feel all sentimental and fuzzy inside, and I couldn’t think of a better title than a “Scot” to brand myself with.

Over the last four years, I have become (as Mark Willhardt would say) a testimony to what a liberal arts college is all about. I came here closed and fearful, and I have left with a mind full of questions, some answered, some not, and a heart full of pride

These are the things I will leave with:

Freshman Year: Writing papers until four in the morning (no more NO-DOZ), falling asleep on the tennis courts looking at the night sky, screaming at Craig Vivian (only to realize he had duped me), dancing to Red Hot Chili Peppers in the cafeteria, playing pranks on Mark Willhardt at 8 a.m. before Comp and Lit and getting to know myself/my impromptu guitar song talent.

Sophomore Year: Rob Hale becoming my personal hero, bringing Marlo Belschner a patch of lawn, on my knees crying about the “Problem of Evil” in my room at 3 a.m., praying a lot/laughing more, falling in for real love, cigars and “blinded by the light, strung up like a duce another roamer in the night!”

Junior Year: Realizing that Shakespeare was cool but that he can be even cooler if you really READ, Craig Watson singing, “They paved paradise and put up a parking lot,” rolling around on the hill outside of HT (in February) and screaming “IT’S SPRING!!” with the two most beautiful girls I have ever known, black and white pictures, voting for the first time in a presidential election and feeling proud to raise my hand as a “YES! I VOTED” member of Stacey Cordery’s class, “You are my best friends!” at the top of the lungs, the Vagina Monologues and fuzzy nights and glorious days.

Senior Year: Danny’s Tap at 8 p.m. because I had to wake up for Student Teaching, Monie Hayes’ salsa, what it felt like to finally stand sure in front of high school eyes and feel right, the last CLUNK of my OOO-OOO-Subaru in Galesburg at 5:30 a.m. and hitchhiking for the first time ever (TWICE!), having Mark Willhardt as my Senior Seminar teacher (if you know, you know), writing papers all night and threatening to jump off a high apparatus so as to break a bone (and thus—not write a paper), Taco Bell, Hannah Schell at the Honor’s Convo taking a picture with me saying, “We are the people who ruined your daughter” to my parents,” and practically taking up stock in Diet Pepsi.

Mostly, my friends/fellow colleagues, I am really thankful for the time that we have had together here. One of my greatest hopes is that every Monmouth College grad will feel as positive about their experience here as I have. I hope: that you have loved your professors and respected them more; that you have truly challenged yourself and your beliefs to become more sure of your purpose in the world; that you have fallen in love with your career choice and feel ready to take on the world; that you will leave here as a member of society who is committed to social justice and human rights; that you get a job (!); that you read what professors told you to read and that you are happy.

May you approach the next portion in the journey of your life with confidence and grace. Peace.

Kelly Winfrey ‘06