So, I just finished my freshman year of college in the big city…
How’d I like it?
After moving off my tiny island for the first time in my life, I was placed in the middle of hustle and bustle of one of the busiest cities in the U.S. to attend my first year of college. It was a strange change, and a few things certainly needed some getting used to, but I made it out alive and that’s all that matters in the end.
So, what’d I think about my freshman year of college?
Well, I guess I should tell you some background information beforehand. First of all, I attend the University of Washington in Seattle and I’ve recently decided to major in both journalism and international studies. I grew up on Orcas Island, a small rural island in the San Juan Islands near the northwest border of the United States with Canada. My graduating class had 23 kids in it. I was headed to a college with an enrollment of over 40,000 students.
You could say it was going to be a big change for me.
That island was the only place I’d ever lived before I moved down to Seattle for school. Because it was far away from any major cities and had no large buildings of its own, there’s hardly any light pollution. Since there’s such a small year-round population there (around 4,000) there’s hardly any noise. The fastest speed limit there is 40 mph, for God’s sake!
It’s a pretty slow lifestyle. Everything there goes by “island time”, so you’re only considered late if you arrive five or ten minutes after when you were supposed to. It’s a great place to grow up and I’m blessed to be able to call that place home.
But hey, I can totally see why people move to Seattle too. I’ve really enjoyed my time here so far, as a resident that is. Sure, I’d visited Seattle plenty of times throughout my life before moving, but I now have a completely new perspective/wisdom on the city. I’ve lived here for the better part of a year and I can say that I’ve experienced a lot of what it has to offer. Sounders games, found my favorite café, the Arboretum, tailing-gating for Husky games, Freak Night, hikes on nearby mountains, plenty of bike rides, and, don’t worry, I wore flannels for almost everything I did.
I love the culture, vibe, and belief system here and so much of my family is in the area. Plus, I’m getting in-state tuition, so that’s awesome on my wallet. What more could I ask for in a location for my college experience?
So, as for my actual college experience, I can honestly say that I’ve enjoyed my first year.
Going into it, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. The only things that I knew for sure was who my roommate was going to be, the name of the dorm that I’d be in, and what classes I’d have. My college wisdom was to come with time and experience.
I was pretty excited to move into the dorms and to live with my roommate. I had the opportunity to meet plenty of new people and just head downstairs if I ever got hungry. Plus, I knew my roommate going into everything — and I liked him — so I knew that was going to be fun. He was a kid from Lopez Island, one of the other San Juan Islands, and we had played sports against each other going back to middle school and liked so many of the same things from sports to music to food.
We were very similar people I’d say. We got along well.
I won’t describe too in depth my college experience but I will describe a few key events or facts about it.
We’ll start with the first weekend that I was at college or, more specifically, my second night of college. After a day full of tail gating and going to my first college football game, I had planned to go out to some frat parties with my roommate, my friend from orientation, and a couple of friends of his from high school that just happened to be of the female persuasion. When they all arrived at my door, I was just happy to see that they were all real. It was just lucky that they were actually pretty attractive. I could tell immediately that he was a friend to keep around. His name was Jack too, so I already had a good feeling about him.
So, after some pre-gaming in the dorm room and my roommate joining in on the festivities, we left the tall gray building that is McMahon Hall and began our trek to our party destination — Greek row.
Along the way, we met some other people from the dorms. Although we didn’t spend much time with them at first, we’d see them again throughout the night. So, after a lot of wandering around and talking to various people, the group from my dorm room approached the first frat on the list. We knocked on the door, it opened, and a guy came out. He saw the girls and immediately ushered them inside, and then he focused his attention on us, the males.
“Yeah, uh, hey. Who do you know here?”
Considering that it was the girls who had planned out the whole night and all of our parties — and they were gone — we didn’t really have a legitimate answer. My friend Jack said the name John, hoping that would generate a positive response. The frat bro quickly said there was no John in the frat, said that he was sorry, and then closed the door.
We were out of luck and out of women.
I learned two things that night: 1. Frat parties and girls go hand in hand, and 2. There (allegedly) isn’t a John in every frat.
I don’t know how useful that information is, but it was just the first of many lessons I’d come to learn in the next nine months of my life by being a college student.
After the first party failure, my roommate, Jack, a few other rejected males and I wandered around looking for the best possible party options. Because we’d walking for so long, and the alcohol was beginning to wear off, we decided to take some time to rest on a lawn. After a few minutes, a decently sized group had formed, mostly made up of the same people we’d met on the way out of the dorms. We’d all come upon the same problems, but their women had stayed faithful to them and stuck around. We introduced each other, told jokes, and just had a generally good time.
When sitting on the lawn got old, we moved on to party hopping where we could get in. When that got old, we decided to head home. Jack headed back to his dorm, and my roommate and I escorted two girls back to our same dorm. We hung out in our dorm for a little bit before parting ways for the night.
The next night was much of the same — party hopping and wandering around aimlessly — but with different people. And then that was my first weekend of college.
The next key event was the first time that I went home from school.
I had almost an entire month off for winter break and I’d just finished my first quarter of school so I was definitely ready for a nice long break.
Nothing especially interesting or meaningful happened but coming home for the first time was important because it was like going back to square one for a little bit. I was able to see all my friends for the first time in months and I could finally take time to relax and think about my life at that point. I was able to go over my last couple months and how my first experience with college went.
Although I loved being home for a bit, it allowed me to fully realize why I went off to college. I left so that I could pursue an education that would help me out for the rest of my life and give me some much needed wisdom of the real world outside of my tiny island. It took me until my first trip back home to realize that and it sent me back to school with a whole new perspective.
When I returned to school, I did so with a mentality to experience as much as I could. This meant attempting to meet more people and being willing to try to new things. If I hadn’t returned to school with that mentality, I may not have had the same first year of college that I ended up having.
Fast forward through winter quarter and to the first day of spring quarter, and I have my football tryout. I’d been working out for months and practicing kicking field goals in hopes of walking onto the UW football team.
The tryout was on the first day of spring training and the first day of the new quarter. After months of preparing for this one event, I gave it all I had at the tryout and waited for the results.
Unfortunately, I did not impress the coaches enough to make the cut. Months of working out and practicing had gone to waste. But had it? Regardless of how well I actually performed, I stuck a pretty damn tough thing out on top of my studies and didn’t crash and burn. I was stoked just to have the opportunity that I did.
Although I didn’t make the team, that entire experience left me with a certain vigor. After my tryout, I found myself with a lot more leisure time to write, play sports, ride my bike, and spend time with my friends. Although I hadn’t made my goal of making the football, it may have been for the best. It showed me all the things I’d be missing out on if I had made the team.
Basically, I realized that this college thing is about experiencing new things and doing what I love.
I’m not entirely sure that I would’ve loved being on the football team, but I’m damn glad that I tried out.
The next big event was no more than a few days later.
I was hanging out with some friends in their room — some of the very same people that I met on my first night of college partying. Amidst the various jokes and strange conversations we’d been having, the topic of where people would be living next year was brought up.
I’d been trying to figure out my living situation for the next year with some other friends, but since none of them seemed to have much figured out, I was in a pickle. My friends mentioned how they were all getting a house together (something that sounded good to me) and they just so happened to need an extra person to help fill the house up.
I was happy to help out.
All in one swift move, I’d gone from a homeless college student with a handful of friends to one that lived in a huge house and would be surrounded by friendly people. Now that I was officially a part of the house, I was introduced to myriads of new people that I had never met before or had at least seen around.
Suddenly, my sophomore year of college was looking a whole lot better than my freshman year, which wasn’t even that bad to begin with.
Sure, those “key” events might not be the biggest, most exciting times of my freshman year, but they all played an important role in how I feel about my college experience so far and what next year holds for me. Trust me, I had much more fun on some nights than I did figuring out my living situation or kicking a few field goals, but those didn’t have the same lasting effects as those events did.
It’s funny how those random nights can prove to be so meaningful. Just from that first night of partying, I met people that are still a fairly solid part of my college experience now.
Who would’ve guessed that some of the first people I met at college — the ones that I was hanging out with on the lawn — would be the same people I’d be living with for an entire year?
Who could’ve possibly predicted that one of the girls I brought back to my room would now be working alongside me at The Daily? I’d say we’ve become fairly good friends and we’ll probably have classes together for years to come.
And as for my very first college friend, Jack, he doesn’t even go to UW anymore. Sure, we’re still friends. We keep in contact and we’ve hung out a few times but he’s transferring to a school down in Arizona so I doubt I’ll be able to see him around very often.
It just goes to show that, no matter how much you try to expect the unexpected, it’s still going to be the unexpected.
I loved my first few experiences at college, and I certainly had some tough times in between then and now, but the whole year was nothing that I could’ve prepared for.
All in all, my freshman year of college in the big city was solid, to say the least.
But I expect the exact same unexpectedness from my sophomore year.
The Rating: 76/100
Pro: I made plenty of friends, made a ton of good memories, got pretty decent grades, and the stage is set for an even better sophomore year.
Con: There were certainly lulls of good times throughout and plenty of stressful nights studying. For a while I was worried, but now that’s all over.
About me:
My name is Jack Russillo and I’m a college freshman who just moved to the big city (Seattle) from a small town in the middle of nowhere. Every day I rate something on a scale of 1 to 100.
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