At the end of Freshman year, the uncertainty brewed. As housing groups were made, betrayed, and dissolved, I had not made friends with many that I would have been comfortable housing with so I decided on the alternative: entering the automatic random placement where the school would place me into an open leftover spot. My plan continued until one of my best college friends, Monica, said that there was an open spot in her group and I would be guaranteed a single. Being in a single my first year was lucky, but being in a single again seemed like my lucky fortune was in order. Everything seemed perfect, yet I was uncertain because I knew nothing about the people I was to live with for the next year.
I only briefly met my suitemates during one housing group meeting, but not nearly enough to know if I would likely get along with or be friends with all of them. Coping, I told myself that my room would be my safe haven for sleep and that I might rarely ever see them anyway. That was until I moved in.
Suddenly, these people I had never known before invited me to their birthdays and hangouts. Their efforts to include me were never in vain as I always tried my best to show up and spend more time with them. I learned so much about these people through their living habits, hobbies, interests, etc. Each person was either introverted or extroverted, interested in K-pop or anime (or both), or were an early riser or a night owl. Their habits contributed to learning who they were as people, and our dining table became a staple place for conversation.
At the table, we all hovered over our laptops and made idle chit chat. Soon, we played games here. Eventually, we hosted dinners here.
Respect, courtesy, and friendship — the people I had been so overcome with anxiety to live with were some of the sweetest peers known to mankind; thus, we called ourselves ‘sweet suite’. As school started, we began to do what college students do: neglect social life, neglect our academics, neglect our health, or two of the three. Whenever we did see each other, it was the usual question of:
“How was your day?”
The answer oftentimes was a combination of busy, tired, and stressed with any variable of academic work, career pressure, and emotional turmoil; yet, venting to one another got all of us through some of the roughest days. But as a small token of thanks to the kind people that let me into their circle, I decided to help host a thanksgiving dinner alongside Monica.
Running to Trader Joes in the early morning, we went through the aisles looking for items on our grocery list. Cheeses, vegetables, and protein choices to reflect everyone’s dietary restrictions. Then Monica and I began working on the beef stew in the cramped kitchen that was uniquely ours.
In a steel pot, Monica began cooking the beef until tender and creating an aromatic stew that filled the suite with a sweet, yet savory scent. Chopping away, my hands were busy making the ratatouille by thinly cutting the veggies and placing them neatly in a spiral against the glass container. Our vision came to life as our suitemates chipped in by putting together the salad and peeling pearl onions.
Sweat on our foreheads, yet we were victorious. Thanksgiving dinner emerged after hours of our hard dedication and sore hands. Faint warm lights lit the table, our nametags marking our designated seats, and our plates of food waiting to jump straight into our stomachs. Around this table, we joyously discussed our plans for the upcoming break, where we would be, and what we were thankful for. Smiles erased the memory of our worst days throughout the semester, replacing them with the warmth of each other all in the same space.
Feeling full, I realized that my being was full of gratitude for the connections I fostered and everything I learned from the uncertainty I originally felt to the journey of friendship I ended with. With each day I lived in this suite, I learned something new about each and every person that I lived with. Something about their interests, religion, hobbies, philosophies, politics, you name it. Our little dinners, conversations, and game nights ignited a new found appreciation for our differences and similarities that all led us to the same place, at the same time.
Thus, thankful cannot fully describe that sweet suite has left me with.
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.
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