In a flash, everything I had ever known became what I left behind. Here I was standing in front of Barnard gates, waving goodbye to my last family members during orientation week. Watching so intently, my arms shook and eyes never left the uber that took my aunt and uncle to the airport.
My feet shuffled through the courtyard as I scanned my newly-instated ID. Slowly dragging myself back to my dorm, time moved frame by frame. Eventually, I made my way to the corridor which held the only water fountain in the entire building. My legs staggered on their own as I paced through the dimly lit path towards the fountain. The bare white walls encased my body — my chest began to do a dance, an unbearable pounding.
There at the water fountain was a girl, Diana, from my floor filling her Brita to the brim. We met earlier when our families helped us unpack our things and moved in. She too was Vietnamese; that was how we found connection. She turned towards me and smiled.
“What are you doing here?” she inquired. Her hand lay on her hip as her smile transformed into a mischievous smirk.
Flooding my eyes, my smile back to her broke into violent sobs. In an instant, I realized what I had lost — everything I had left behind.
Diana threw herself over me; her arms wrapped around my mind tightly. She laid her head on my shoulder, and gently patted my worries away. After collecting myself, I slowly peeled away from her embrace.
“Thank you.”
No doubt I became miserably homesick. I was barely through my first week away from home, yet I had nobody to rely on for the simple pleasure of company. Without anyone to understand me, there I was in a foreign room holding all my things and regretting everything. However, as the sun set, there was a knock on my door.
“Let’s grab dinner. Which dining hall do you want to eat at?” It was Diana again.
Pulling me out of my encased misery, we headed to the nearest dining hall for dinner. Back and forth, Diana and I took our turns grabbing cutlery and then drinks. My stomach began to swell with the realization that enjoying family dinners was something I could no longer do until the next time I went home.
“Are you feeling better?” She broke my spiral.
“Yeah, I just think I really miss my family. Do you feel like this too?”
“Not really but if you ever want to grab dinner again, just call me or text me, especially when you’re feeling down.”
I never imagined how many times I’d ask to go to the dining halls to escape my suffering. Diana, Monica, and others — dining hall dinners, breakfast, and lunch became my new normal. We bonded over meals and our time became sacred.
Asking about majors and classes began a routine that enabled my exposure to so many people who might too feel the way I do. In an instant, a conversation about dinner at a dining hall turns into an intimate ritual of connecting with others by learning about their experiences. Not only can this dinner excuse connect you to a web of others, it can enlighten one’s perspective. Many international students, FLI students, etc. hold unique experiences that, when shared, can build empathy and understanding of other cultures when one takes the time to really listen. Thus, these discussions over dining hall food inspires connection and learning by exposing oneself to a variety of perspectives.
This transformation did not erase my homesickness, but it eased it. Some of my best friends were people I got to know in dining halls. As simple as it sounds, one of the best ways to overcome this lonesome feeling is to fill it with company — a key tactic that I implore anyone to use.
By Alyssa Hong
Alyssa Hong is a rising Junior at Barnard College, studying Political Science with a minor in English. As a first-generation, low-income student, she writes about moving across the country for college and its adjustments. She utilizes entertainment, wellness/health/food, and fashion/beauty as methods to making new connections with others whilst always learning.
For over 25 years, the Campus Clipper has helped college students in New York City—and later in Boston and Philadelphia—save money and succeed in city life. We offer a digital coupon booklet with discounts on food, clothing, and services, plus an Official Student Guidebook with real advice on how to navigate college life in a big city. Our internship program lets students build skills, earn money, and publish their own e-books. Follow us on Instagram and TikTok @CampusClipper, and sign up for our newsletter to get deals straight to your inbox. To access the digital coupons, scan the QR code on our printed card—available in dorms, student centers, and around campus.
