Chris Whitney

Freshman year, I pored over the back catalogue of This American Life. Sophomore year, it was Philosophy Bites. Junior year: Keith McNally's XO. Senior year: WFMU's Too Much Information and Best Show. Podcasts have accompanied me throughout my tenure at Vassar. They could be downloaded on-demand for free and carried all over campus on an mp3 player. They injected storytelling, humor, music and ideas into the interstitial parts of my day. When I didn't want to listen, I didn't have to, but when I did, I could. They provided small moments that I shared with no one, but they made experience here what it was.

Looking back, years from now, reminiscing about time spent with friends will be easy. "The times I spent with my friends," we'll tell ourselves -- "those were the times that defined my college experience." We'll remember professors who changed the way we think and classmates who pushed us out of an intellectual comfort zone that needed broadening. These memories will be easy to recall because 1) their importance is real and 2) our role in a project larger than ourselves -- like a friendship, a class, a team, a cast, a group, or a romantic relationship -- is validated by the participation of those we shared it with. "This stuff must have been important," we'll think, "because I wasn't the only one who thought so." Though we may remember these shared moments, we must also remember who was at their center. (It was you.)

In the rhythm of everyday life, time spent with others is balanced out by time spent alone. One of the fundamental romantic images of the college experience is that friends debating philosophy late into the night. The reality of college life is different. As a Vassar student, I've spent lots of time alone and Vasssar has enabled it. That the college is a sort of bubble is a fact. I don't meant this to be a political statement, it's just true. Part of the deal with an "elite" residential liberal arts college is that they take care of the basics -- food, cleaning, transportation -- the typical Vassar students need not worry much over everyday activities that for most people are a major hassle. Vassar students get a lot of free time. Though we may choose to fill it with schoolwork, campus jobs, extracurricular activities, and socializing, most of us don't have to.

In my four years, I have taken advantage of opportunities to join in groups with interesting, passionate people. I played on the varsity basketball team. I acted in a play and danced with SASA's Bollywood troupe. I hung out with friends and attended classes. Being able to do so many neat things was a real privilege.

Still, alone in my room, it was easy to feel nervous -- about class, about friends, and often about the future, but I don't regret those private moments of anxiety. Reflection makes me better. Being alone is a valid and often important way to be in the world.

After I leave Vassar, the place and most of its students and professors will still be here, but my experience will only live in my memory. I'll be able to visit campus, meet up with old friends, and play in the alumni basketball game, but that will be different. My experience of Vassar is bound to a certain time and set of emotions -- one I'll only have access to when I'm alone, thinking about it. That I'll have this time for myself will be a privilege, just as the time I've had at Vassar has been.