While my name has graced the hallowed columns of The Observer before, most people don’t know me. I grew up in Colorado Springs, Colorado, or “The Vatican for Protestants,” as some like to call it (including me). I had never been to South Bend before deciding to make an unorthodox trip to Saint Mary’s College one summer. I had no family or friends in the tri-campus community, and my closest relatives were almost five hours away. But something about the trees lining the avenue and the crispness of the summer air made campus feel like home. And while my time in South Bend, Indiana, was cut short by certain unfortunate life circumstances, the year I spent calling it home changed my life. In South Bend, I found myself. I met friends, learned some lessons and got to feel truly alive for the first time in a long while.
The first lesson that South Bend taught me was that no matter what, all you can do in some situations is pray. The one thing I miss the most about the tri-campus is late-night rosary because whether it’s a study break, you dropped a dish in South or you had a panic attack that seized the air in your lungs, praying is the best option you have sometimes. Kneeling in the Grotto and staring up at the illuminated face of Our Lady saw me through many a weekend at 2 a.m. Just the act of praying and allowing yourself space will help with most things.
The second lesson is that no matter what you eat, it’s better than not eating at all. As a girl whose suffered through many years of anxiety around food, the second plate of potatoes is always worth it and so is the sixth plate of Brussels sprouts. As long as you eventually cycle through a protein, a fruit, a vegetable and some carbs, you are fine. Food is fuel, and it's better to have strange looks at your plate than starve because you haven’t eaten. Also, for some late-night burgers, Fat Boys are the best in South Bend, and they deliver.
The third lesson is laughter. Laugh at that terrible joke your Intro to Religion professor says. Laugh with your friends. Laugh until you cry. Possibly even laugh until the dining hall soda comes out your nose. Just make sure that you have enough things that make you happy. You will never feel worse than when you haven’t laughed at something in a while. Especially with the permacloud. Allow yourself to laugh at the minute things in your day. It’s okay. Nobody is waiting there to kill your vibe unless you let them.
The fourth lesson is that not everyone is going to be your cup of tea. Vice versa is also true; you’re not gonna be everyone’s cup of tea either. As someone who cycled through a quad until she found the “roommate of her heart” (Love you, Ella), it’s okay not to click with people. Give yourself grace. You will find your friends in time. Sometimes, it's in the unlikeliest of places like the back of Blinkie, in the dregs of an event, at The Huddle at 2 am, in the bleachers in Moose Krause or the basement of South. Your people will come to you as long as you are willing to see them.
The fifth lesson is how to be unapologetically yourself. Whether it's wearing funky clothes that make you smile, the stickers you put on your laptop, the photos on your walls or the saint medals you wear. Don’t hide from people because you don’t think they’ll like it. Say the weird slang (still maintain that “swag” is still cool). Allowing yourself to dumb down who you are in any way is ultimately hurting you more than it’s helping everybody else. You got into the tri-campus community because of you, not who everyone else wanted you to be.
I grew up as the nerdy kid in the back row who got into trouble a lot. The only Catholic in the room. The girl with the glasses too big for her face. But South Bend taught me a whole lot, and what it taught me was to be myself and to pray for everyone else. No matter who you are, no matter where you are from, there is a home for you in South Bend. It just sucks it took me leaving to see that.
Elizabeth Burt
senior
Apr. 14
