Magazine Fall 2023 A Stopping Place

Life feels fast. Often, I wish I spent less of my time in transit. Movement, it appears, is the new normal. When I need to slow down, though, I go to poetry. It has the uncanny ability of expanding to fill most other spaces in my life.

Upon finishing Silvia Plath’s collection “Ariel,” I found myself contemplating a singular line from the poem “Berck-Plage”: “It is so beautiful up here: It is a stopping place.” Like many, I find myself scrutinizing the future. How does college factor into that looming unknown? I’ll be honest: This essay is not about the future. No strategy or six-step plan. Instead, Plath’s words urge me to consider a reality deeply rooted in the present. I am challenged to make college into a “stopping place,” not simply a stepping stone.

Think about it. What if college is not an in-between place — a middle ground suspended between childhood and the rest of our lives? Instead, it could be an opportunity to live life a little differently and to embrace parts of ourselves we simply never give the space or time to grow. True, these few years have an expiration date. They are ultimately temporary. But the space and time they offer us is valuable nonetheless. You may notice how such a conception goes against the grain. Our culture has already outlined what is collegiately worthwhile: namely, a utilitarian, streamlined degree with as few stops as possible along the way to tangible success. Assuredly, college will provide me with practical, important skills for future careers. I would argue, though, it has also, thus far, equipped me to notice, listen and respond. I am often challenged to sit in silence, gather in discussion and read with intention. Each of these is essential to transforming our understanding of the unique space college offers. The hard part, though? Slowing down. Often, I wonder how much goodness I have looked beyond in trying to get a glimpse of the future. So take a moment to consider with me what a stopping place could look like.

I had to fly halfway across the world to come even close to understanding the value of stopping. In England for a semester of literary enthusiasm, it was easy to slow down and appreciate the beauty of what I was learning. It felt as though opportunity followed me from dusty castle to tiny bookshop to screeching train. Yet for the first time in my life, I wasn’t in a hurry.

I had to fly halfway across the world to even come close to understanding the value of stopping.

Oftentimes, learning strolled seamlessly out of the classroom and into real life. I found myself enjoying this newfound continuity — I felt both prepared to use my education and to leave room to let the world around me inform my perspective. What was the difference, then, between here and there? Why was it so hard to slow down, to ever stop, at home? Partly, it was the people. These experiences were so much richer and life-giving because I was experiencing them alongside people who were equally passionate and excited about things such as poetry, complicated novels and theatrical performances. At home, I simply hadn’t slowed down enough to intertwine myself deeply with the community. I would urge you, above all else, to stop for a moment and evaluate not the quality of your grades, your job, or your house, but the people around you. Who is your community? I think living life in the company of curious, intelligent and thoughtful people is reason enough to go to college. It takes work, though, to cultivate these spaces — these communities — so I would like to thank my professors and peers for stepping into that challenge willingly. I think we have done a beautiful job.

So I returned home. I began, thus, to consider how life abroad, the origin of my stopping-place realization, might influence the rest of my time at college. It was possible to come back and simply marvel at what I did, the things I said and the people I met. I was challenged, though, to approach my hometown, my college town and any other familiarized space around me with the same sense of curiosity and reverence with which I approached that semester abroad. Yes, my time abroad was special, but I believe that I, and all my peers, are capable of incredible growth and development outside idealized circumstances. Thus I am committed to making the entirety of my college experience a stopping place and recognize beautiful things, people and conversation simply for being beautiful. I am not as anxious about looking to the future, to whatever job I pursue after these few years, as I am in fostering a sense of identity and place in the here and now.

I am committed to making the entirety of my college experience a "stopping place" and recognize beautiful things, people, and conversation simply for being beautiful.

As I began thinking about this essay, I wrote two sentences: “We are not here for degrees, we are here to become better humans. And whether we do is up to us.” What I want to say is this: The future we think is beyond college has already started. This essay, then, might not even be about college but simply life. College just so happens to be the space life has chosen to “stop” for the moment. So to all you students, or those offering guidance to students, I say: Think about what college means to you. Is it a place to pass the time, meet a few people and leave behind? Is it a stepping stone or a launch pad, essentially a fast track to a better career? Or is it a space to sit in, choose for the present and learn to appreciate? I think a combination of these answers is possible and probably reflects where most of us are. I know, though, that I am where I need to be. This community is a stopping place for me. As a result, I am challenged to consider college in ways that intentionally bring me deeper into this present reality. And for those who aren’t students, you need stopping places too. We all do. Where will you find them?