I first visited and fell in love with Notre Dame when I was in third grade. My parents had brought me to campus to see a football game. At that point in my life, I didn't particularly care for sports, nor did I understand the majesty that is Notre Dame football. I can't say if we won that day, but a physical reminder of what I do remember is about to disappear.
I remember running through the lush grass in front of the library, red and golden leaves crackling beneath my feet. I remember chasing chubby squirrels wherever they scampered, and I remember my parents having a difficult time explaining to me that it was time to leave. Most vivid in my memory is flopping down in the center of a patch of grass, tossing freshly fallen leaves into the air, and cheering "I want to go to Notre Dame!"
With this fond memory, it is disheartening to see ominous fence posts popping up across campus. I believe that God made grass to frolic in, and not to be fenced in. Where will I frolic now coming from class after receiving an excellent grade? Surely if I wanted to prance in jubilation on a slab of concrete I would have found a college located in a concrete jungle! How will I skip barefoot to the library on warm autumn days and feel the carpet of grass between my toes if intimidating and ugly fences deter me?
Recalling the lines of Psalm 23, "The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures," I implore the university: Stop this madness! These fences will decrease our access to one of God's most beautiful gifts: Grass, green with life and tall in exultation beneath the heavens, inviting the most tired of feet to walk there and be cushioned.
Melissa Jordan
sophomore
Ryan Hall
Aug. 26
