Last: it’s a word seniors know well, especially this time of the year. It’s also a word all study abroad students can relate to with bittersweet clarity in a different capacity. While I do not yet have to process saying “see you later” to the University that has become home over the last three years, the week has come to say goodbye to a wonderful semester abroad.
For a few weeks now, I have encountered “lasts” in broad, less emotionally challenging strokes: the last weekend trip. The last time stocking up on toilet paper for our flat. But this week, the concept of “last” has become more personal and more imminent. This was my last weekend in London with the people who have become like family to me here. Yesterday, I attended my last class before becoming a Notre Dame senior. This week, I will do things like have my last coffee at my favorite café, which became the site of a lot of important things like academic assignment completions, conversations with friends, and blogging sessions.
This brings me to another big last of the week: this is my last blog post on the Go Forth ND platform.
Serving as a student blogger for Campus Ministry has been one of the most transformative experiences of my time at the University Notre Dame. As a result of this blog, I have grown in my confidence as a thinker, writer, and woman in the world. I have learned to think both critically and reflectively about events happening in my life and in the world, and I have received excellent guidance, feedback, and support in preparation for and in response to the pieces that have manifested as a result of my lived experiences. One of my friends here in London likes to talk about “living fully.” To live fully according to her definition means to truly feel alive, present, and significant in the things happening in the moment with the people there with you. This blog, the people I have met as a result of writing it, and the opportunity to engage in faith curiously, intellectually, and joyfully have shown me how to live fully.
In my final post, I would like to highlight some of my favorite posts from the 54 I have written over the past two years.
Some of my favorite posts from the fall of 2014 are about the call to relationship. In On Kinship I wrote about Fr. Greg Boyle’s visit to ND. This post was followed by one about The Call to KiNDness, in which I reflected on random acts of kindness and the self-sacrificial way in which my friends laid aside their own comfort in order to help me through the Sophomore Road Trip on a freshly broken foot. These posts (and the lessons I learned as result of the events they are based on!) have been so important in forming the foundation for future posts on relationships (and future relationships themselves), such as Loving: The Brave Choice, which is a reflection on my summer as a Notre Dame Vision Mentor-In-Faith, and the recent Thank You, Study Abroad: I Believe in Soulmates.
In posts on the topics of liturgy and sacrament, I had the opportunity to interface with incredible resources on campus as I learned more about the vibrant Church. Some of my favorites are: an investigation of the ritual of the Sign of Peace in a two-part installation consisting of "Peace Be With You…" {Part 1} and "...And With Your Spirit. {Part 2}", a look at the sacrament of Reconciliation in When Sins Are Forgiven, a reflection on Eucharistic joy in "I Want That Bread!", and an encounter with the Communion of Saints in Images of a Communion.
One of the best topics to write about as a Notre Dame student is, of course, the spirit of Notre Dame. Posts involving the ND spiritual community are some of my very favorites to write. Highlights include Made in God's Image (a conversation with a courageous fellow student who shared her battle to love herself), "I Love It Here." (an interview with a Muslim friend who majored in theology and Notre Dame), and Family is Important. (a reflection on the simple thought that the title expresses in the context of the Notre Dame family). My favorite spirit of Notre Dame post, though, is Thank You, Father Ted. This post, which was written the day after Fr. Ted Hesburgh passed away, is incredibly special to my heart, just as Fr. Ted is to that of the Notre Dame community.
Finally, some of the most fun posts to write (and probably some of the most fun to read!) are those that involve creative styles beyond my usual blogging voice. These posts have challenged me to find new ways to relate events and to express thoughts. Some of them include That Magic Week (a prose piece in response to a week spent with my family in the Grand Canyon), The Most Interesting Man in the World (thoughts on why a Holy Cross priest is the real most interesting man in the world), and two collaborative posts between my fellow blogger, Megan, and I: Religious: They're Just Like Us! and What Would You Ask God?.
At the risk of sounding like I am pretending to win an award and make a big speech or something along those lines, thank you. Thank you to the Campus Ministry Communications team, to the people who I have had the privilege of interviewing and photographing, to family and friends and acquaintances and strangers who have inspired me in innumerable ways to dig deeper and think bigger and live more. Thank you to Notre Dame du Lac. & thank you most of all to you, for reading my words and for sharing in this adventure.
From here, let’s go
forth in hope, to set the world on fire.
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| Photo taken in Cinque Terre, Italy, by Ryan Leen |
Latest Go Forth
- Growing TogetherOn the morning of freshman move-in in August of 2013, we were one of the first families in the line of cars queuing up to approach my dorm. We were shepherded down Notre Dame Avenue, the Golden Dome gleaming as we passed sign after sign welcoming the ND Class of 2017 to our new home. An usher guided our car onto a sidewalk that looped around in front of my dorm. I remember being overwhelmed as I stepped into the lobby to check in, where I was greeted by joyful music and a team of some of the friendliest women I had ever met. A team of sophomore and junior Freshman Orientation leaders swept my bags upstairs in a cart while I met the senior Resident Assistant of my new section and officially checked into the dorm that would be my home over the next four years. My first encounter with my college dorm was an important one. That morning, exceptional hospitality was extended to my parents and me. The smiling, reassuring faces, the chorus of “Welcome home,” the sense of community that permeated every action and interaction: each gesture was extremely impactful. I was still the same nervous freshman who had moved my life across the country only a few days prior, but I had the assurance of knowing I belonged here. Though it would take me a while to settle into my new space, I knew I was home. My freshman self checking into collegeFreshman Orientation Staff members bringing my belongings upstairs so my parents and I could meet Hall Staff. Did I mention their incredible cheerfulness despite the 100+ degree weather? Day One under the Dome with my parents Over the next several years, the Hall Staff and leadership team of my residence hall would continue to amaze me with their love and hospitality. Our rectress became one of my greatest role models and an excellent example and caregiver to us all. Under her leadership, the RA teams in my dorm consistently exhibited grace, poise, and energy. It did not take long for me to look at the confident, charismatic women before me and decide I wanted to be one of them. Resident Assistants organized section and hall events, chatted and laughed with residents and with one another on rounds, and exhibited a contagious joy that set the tone for the hall. I noticed a similar pattern in other dorms where I spent time: RAs were so full of spirit and a clear desire to care for the residents in their halls. And no matter their varied interests, areas of study, activities, and hometowns, they loved Notre Dame. The longer I spent at ND, I more recognized the job of a Resident Assistant is not always an easy one. As I grew closer to the age of the RAs around me, I began to witness bits and pieces of the tough parts of the ministry. Through the difficult emotional impact caring so deeply about one’s residents had when things were not going well and the long hours spent attending to challenging situations, the sacrificial aspect of what it means to be a Resident Assistant showed its own colors through the perfect picture I had created in my head of the RA position. Still, they smiled. Still, they laughed. Still, they lived out the Holy Cross charism of being men and women with hope to bring. RAs attended Residence Hall Masses in community, they took a personal interest in the stories of those around them, and they enriched the campus atmosphere simply by being bold servant leaders and by loving the people they encountered each day. The eighth Constitution of the Congregation of Holy Cross, "The Cross, Our Only Hope," comments on hope in a way that is strikingly applicable to life on the Notre Dame campus: "Whether it be unfair treatment, fatigue or frustration at work, a lapse of health, tasks beyond talents, seasons of loneliness, bleakness in prayer, the aloofness of friends; or whether it be the sadness of our having inflicted any of this on others…there will be dying to do on our way to the Father." There are many circumstances under which we, even as a people faithful to the Lord, may tend to waver in hope. But, “…we do not grieve as men without hope, for Christ the Lord has risen to die no more. He has taken us into the mystery and the grace of this life that springs up from death. If we, like Him encounter and accept suffering in our discipleship, we will move without awkwardness among others who suffer. We must be men with hope to bring.”The ministry of presence is an extremely important one to me: walking with people is one of my favorite things to do. The unique position of Resident Assistant at Notre Dame calls on men and women to engage in the very particular ministry of hopeful presence needed to cultivate our residence halls into homes. It will be my immense privilege to serve as a Resident Assistant for the 2016-2017 school year in the hall I have come to call home. It seems impossible that the freshman in the first picture above, checking into my dorm for the first time, has suddenly become old enough to serve as an RA. But I derive much hope from the fact that my Resident Assistants, who I have come to admire so much during my time at Notre Dame, probably felt the same way. This humbling reality is part of being an effective servant leader. As an RA, I hope to bring energizing joy to the residents of my dorm and to campus as a whole, just as my Resident Assistants have done for my classmates and me. I hope to successfully play my small part in creating a home where we will grow together in hope.
- The Things I Carry Forth (Not Just Passport Stamps)As I made my way through UK customs from Cinque Terre, Italy this past weekend, the officer who checked my passport asked what I have been studying during my semester in London. “I am an English and Theology double major,” I replied. “What is theology?,” she questioned, holding my gaze. I smiled and explained that I study God and religion within the Catholic tradition. She nodded, flipping through my passport, and remarked, “You’ve been doing a lot of traveling since January, haven’t you?” “I have,” I responded. “I’ve been very fortunate.” “But you’re almost done?” she asked, noting that I am scheduled to return to the U.S. at the beginning of May. I replied, “I am. It’s hard to believe!” and she handed my passport back to me, freshly stamped, and advised me to remain a student for as long as possible. Over the course of the semester, I have become accustomed to explaining why I am where I am in removed, typically impersonal interactions with airport authorities. “I am here on vacation until Sunday” explains my purpose for entering various countries on weekend adventures, and “I am studying in University for five months from the States” clarifies my reason for re-entering the United Kingdom. Never before, though, had an officer asked me what theology is or commented on my travel schedule or offered life advice about continuing education. My interaction with this woman offered the opportunity to reflect upon several ways I have grown during this special semester studying in London. First, my semester abroad has invited me to locate my faith on a global scale. I have attended Catholic Mass in English, Latin, Norwegian, French, and Italian this semester. I met the challenge of adapting my prayer and worship routine to the fast pace of a semester abroad, forming supportive friendships with wonderful people doing the same and being intentional about faith decisions such as choosing Lenten devotions that have supported my goals for personal growth during the semester. I had the immense privilege of attending Easter Mass at the Vatican with Pope Francis, which is perhaps the prime example of what it has meant to locate my faith on a global scale: the sheer number of pilgrims attending that Mass from all over the world was a powerful witness to the universality of the Catholic faith and the Christian spirit. When I think back to the first Mass I attended during my semester abroad, a comment full of awe, relief, and gratitude that one of my friends made as we walked into the church stands out to me and still rings true: “No matter where we go, this liturgy is always the same.” In my first blog of the semester, I reflected on the comfort the universality of the Mass brought me after I attended that liturgy: “The same sacred liturgy is celebrated. The same Eucharist is really present. The same Body of Christ is manifest in the people gathering around the same table of the Lord. My catholic Catholic faith has rooted me in hope here in London.” Looking at my experience from the other side, only a few weeks away from my return to life in the States, I can proudly and gratefully say that by the grace of God, my catholic Catholic faith has rooted me in hope here this semester. Yes, in London, and also in the world. My brief conversation about theology with the customs officer reminded me how important it has been for me to encounter Christ in all sorts of different ways wherever I have traveled and in everyone I have met. Second, traveling in Europe with incredible people has been an invaluable gift. The customs officer was right: I have been traveling to a different country almost every weekend since January, and I have had the opportunity to explore London, England in between weekends and spring break trips. My friends and I often talk about how we want to “live into” each new place we explore, which involves really seeing, tasting, smelling, hearing, and feeling a place. Fortunately, I have been blessed by wonderful people with which to do so in London and beyond. Third, I have had the opportunity to learn in and from the world. Not only have I been blessed with the immense gift of going to school in a truly global city and taken various classes that focus on the history of the people and places of London, but I have also come to call Europe my classroom. Education has occurred on an unprecedented level both in terms of volume and impact this semester. I learned about World War II in Berlin and Prague by attending tours through areas where the events I have learned about in history books for years actually happened. I walked through centuries of world history preserved around every corner in Rome. I have discovered how to regularly communicate with people who do not speak English and how to conduct transactions and conversions in the pound, euro, Norwegian krone, Czech koruna, and Hungarian forint. This list is truly inexhaustible: the ways I have grown personally and intellectually from having the opportunity to throw myself entirely into a semester of learning-saturated adventure is an incredible gift I will carry with me forever. After this semester, it will be impossible not to follow the advice of the customs officer: I will be devoted to remaining a student for the rest of my life, whether in school or in the world. Though our conversation lasted for all of three minutes, the customs officer at UK Border Control gifted me with a framework through which to reflect on my semester abroad. I am so grateful for each moment here: each new challenge, lesson, city, and person are gifts I will carry with me when I return home in May. The opportunities to locate my faith on a global scale, to explore Europe with fantastic friends, and to learn in and from the world have shaped me in powerful ways that will continue to challenge and energize me for the rest of my life. Vernazza, Cinque Terre, Italy
- "How Much We Need This!": Easter Lessons from FrancisMinutes after happy chaos erupted in St. Peter’s Square following the movement of Francis’ Pope Mobile through the Easter masses, a hush fell over the crowd. The adorable, unassuming man who rode around smiling and waving moments before emerged from the curtains flanking the iconic balcony on the front of St. Peter’s Basilica, and a respectful silence settled millions of faithful into anticipation-saturated silence. Even the group of teenagers next to us dismounted the chairs where they had been standing, dancing, and cheering. Pilgrims from all over the world wanted to hear what this man, overflowing with grace and contagious energy, had to say in this traditional Easter address and blessing. That is, all of us looked forward to reading what he had said in Italian once we got home later that day, and some of us could understand what he was saying in the moment. Thankfully, my limited experience studying Spanish helped me to grasp glimpses into his message: at the time, I realized he talked a lot about national politics, care for the poor, and mercy. I also heard him implore us to pray for him just before he disappeared behind the curtain after his address and blessing. In a time of great worldwide need, political uncertainty, and social inequality, it is imperative that we listen to the words of this wise man, world leader, and role model. Here are ten lessons from Pope Francis’ 2016 Urbi et Orbi Address: 1. Easter is joyful. Easter is glorious. Easter is a day of celebration! 2. Jesus is the incarnation of God’s mercy. 3. Christ’s resurrection fulfills the prophecy of Psalm 135: “O give thanks to the Lord, for he is good; for his mercy endures forever.” His mercy never dies. 4. Only God can fill the spiritual and moral abysses of mankind, “prevent us from falling into them and help us to continue our journey together towards the land of freedom and life.” 5. The risen Christ “points out paths of hope” to areas of our world that are war-torn and troubled by social and political conflict through the message of life proclaimed by the Angel beside the overturned stone at the empty tomb of Christ. 6. It is important to pray for “patience, openness, and daily commitment to laying the foundations of a just and lasting peace through direct and sincere negotiations” between Israelis and Palestinians in the Holy Land and between people facing conflict all over the world. 7. The Lord Jesus, our peace, draws us closer to the victims of terrorism around the world. 8. “With the weapons of love, God has defeated selfishness and death.” 9. Jesus is the true door of mercy, “wide open to all.” 10. The Easter message, “a message of life for all humanity,” invites all to remember men and women seeking a better future, particularly migrants and refugees. Pope Francis brought up many difficult topics during his 2016 Urbi et Orbi Address. He mentioned, blessed, and prayed for the most vulnerable people and areas in the world. He did not try to hide the violence and conflict our world faces, but rather named many of these communities and showed that even given violence, terrorism, death, and fear, we hope. We must hold the glorious Easter message alongside the fact that we live in a broken world, and cling to the hope of the Resurrection as we seek renewal and reconciliation: “To all I once more address the words of the Risen One: ‘See, I am making all things new…To the thirsty I will give water as a gift from the spring of the water of life’ (Rev 21:5-6). May this comforting message of Jesus help each of us to set out anew with greater courage and hope, to blaze trails of reconciliation with God and with all our brothers and sisters. How much we need this!” Pope Francis waving from the balcony on the front of St. Peter's Basilica on Easter Sunday
- In Their Steps: Holy Week 2016Near the beginning of the semester, one of my friends pointed out a step in a doorway in Amsterdam to me. She observed that it was an unassuming sort of step, but a significant one nonetheless because of the way it marked the passage of time. One side of it was particularly worn, so much so that a prominent groove had been carved into it by the thousands, perhaps millions, of people who had stepped through that doorway. People had come and gone, some passing once and some dozens of times, and the step had remained and been permanently changed as it greeted each passerby. Since that first notable encounter with a grooved step worn smooth by time, I have been thinking a lot about steps. In the midst of a semester during which I am learning so many things about “official” history, encountering churches and palaces and museums and monuments, not to mention my Global History class and the fact that I am immersed in a city brimming with interesting history, I am grateful to my friend for drawing my attention to this particularity of “everyday” history. Worn steps do not discriminate in history; they have been formed by people from all over the world, from different time periods and different religions and different socioeconomic backgrounds. They bear the marks of the people who have gone before us into or out of a building, through a passageway, up or down a staircase. Worn steps mark the incarnate nature of humanity as we move through the world. The Amsterdam step As a pilgrim in Rome during Holy Week, I thought about steps a lot this past weekend. Not only did I notice worn-down steps around practically every corner in the Eternal City, but I also became acutely aware of how many people had gone before my fellow pilgrims and me on the journey on which we had the privilege of embarking. We visited the four principal cathedrals in Rome, walking through Holy Doors at all four and keeping our family and friends present in our prayer as we went. We participated in the tradition of traveling to various altars of repose on the evening of Holy Thursday, kneeling down before Jesus reserved in the tabernacle in twelve different stunning churches among pilgrims from all over the world. We visited relics from Christ’s Passion on Good Friday, saw the first known depiction of Mary holding Jesus deep in catacombs under Rome, and prayed the Stations of the Cross on the famous Spanish Steps. Everywhere we went, I was reminded of the universality of our faith and was repeatedly stunned by the unique way Rome can trace the history of Christian faith, Catholicism in particular, through places and objects. Our wonderful student pilgrimage leader kept reminding us of the incarnate reality of our faith as we encountered one breathtaking cathedral after another and discovered evidence of Jesus’ real presence through holy places, objects, and art. A view of St. Peter's from atop the North American College in Rome My two favorite pilgrimage moments in Rome happened on two of the most significant days of the liturgical year: Good Friday and Easter Sunday. Both involved steps, physical and figurative. On Good Friday, we had the opportunity to join pilgrims from all over the world in ascending the Scala Sancta, or the Holy Steps. Packed in shoulder to shoulder and knee to foot, we knelt and crawled our way up twenty-eight stairs that are said to be the ones Christ climbed to meet Pontius Pilate on the day of his sentencing. On each step, we reflected on a different moment in the Passion narrative, asking Christ to have mercy on us as we entered into His suffering through prayer and asking Mary to intercede for us: “Holy Mother, bring it about that the wounds of the Lord be impressed in my heart.” With each step, also, we encountered searing physical pain from the wood beneath us that was exaggerated by the groves carved into the steps by millions of pilgrims digging into our knees. I wept both because of physical pain and because of the realization that this was perhaps the smallest sliver of an example of the suffering that Christ endured for us. This emotion-filled experience was also prayer incarnate. We prayed in the footsteps of not only innumerable fellow pilgrims, but also in the footsteps of Christ Himself. After we walked in Jesus’ steps through the communion and repose of Holy Thursday and entered into the suffering of Good Friday and the subdued nature of Holy Saturday, the victorious celebration of Easter Sunday arrived! We waited in line outside the Vatican beginning at 6:00 a.m. in order to celebrate Mass at 10:15 a.m. with Pope Francis in St. Peter’s Square, and we had the immense fortune of sitting in the section closest to the altar at the front of the square. Around 8:00 a.m., we entered into a space that physically marks the beauty of the Catholic Church. The shape of the square is enclosed by curved sets of columns that were designed to look like a welcoming hug surrounding the people gathered in the square, and these columns are topped with 144 statues of saints, assembled together above the faithful. These saints represent the entire Communion of Saints present in prayer with those who are in the square. Above the main façade of St. Peter’s Basilica stand Jesus, eleven of His disciples, and John the Baptist, who points up to heaven. Peter, the disciple missing from the group, is present in the man perched on the balcony below: the pope who has apostolically succeeded him. Mom and me awaiting Pope Francis' arrival from our seats in St. Peter's Square Millions of faithful have made pilgrimages to the site of St. Peter’s since Peter was martyred there in 64 AD, and entering into this tradition of our universal, apostolic church was an unbelievable privilege. It was astounding to consider how many life stories and journeys, struggles and joys were present in the square for Mass that day. Walking in the steps of pilgrims gone before us, we were blessed with the opportunity to make Mass with Papa Francesco himself part of our incarnate spiritual journeys. Never have I been so awestruck at the universal, enduring, joy-filled nature of the Catholic faith. He is Risen – Buona Pasqua! We were this close to Papa Francesco! Image by Ben Swanson.
- Sacred Woman TimeMy family is here! I feel so grateful to be hosting my mom, grandma, and youth minister from home in London this week. They arrived in London on Friday, and we immediately hit the ground running. We have continued my quest to find the yummiest of each cultural food in London (so far we have had Spanish tapas, Italian pizza, Chinese dim sum, English fish ‘n chips, Egyptian lentils, and Indian naan), toured Westminster Abbey, visited a couple markets and museums, shared High Tea, and watched Beautiful the musical. Planning this trip was different from any other vacation I have adventured on with my family before. This is the first time I have hosted any of my family members in a place that is solely “mine.” Hosting family at Notre Dame is always incredibly special because it is my home and because it is a sacred family space: my parents met, got engaged, and were married on the Notre Dame campus and my brothers and I grew up visiting for my mom’s band reunion football games. Campus is a home on so many levels for me, one being that it makes me so happy to imagine my parents and so many other members of the Notre Dame family going before those of us there now. London is another story: none of my family members have lived here before. There is no set path laid before me: there are a thousand ways to get to any one destination. Everything I have the privilege of showing my mom, grandma and youth minister is, in a sense, my own. Thus, while planning the trip, I was largely in charge of picking activities out for our itinerary. This was an entirely new experience for me, as my mom is the master planner for our family. And though she did a huge amount of planning and organization in order to pull this trip off, she allowed me to design a pilgrimage of sorts through London to show her my new home. She, my grandma, and my youth minister – three of my biggest role models – handed over the role of leader to me this week. What an empowering gift. My guests are here for five days and then we will all head to Rome for the Holy Week pilgrimage organized by Notre Dame’s Campus Ministry. I had anticipated that our time in London would be highly touristy and filled up with seeing my favorite spots in the city and that Rome would be our time for spiritual pilgrimage. But one of my favorite things we have done in London so far has been something rather unrelated to the (wonderful) typical touristy activities we have engaged in: beginning our pilgrimage here. On Saturday, we traveled through the Holy Door at Westminster Cathedral, the Mother Church for Roman Catholics in England and Wales. Sunday, we attended Palm Sunday Mass to kick off Holy Week at St. Patrick’s Church in SoHo, the church I have come to call my London parish. Again, we processed through a Holy Door there. We have blessed our food with a prayer very special to my family at every meal, including those we have shared with my friends. We have said night prayer at Westminster Abbey and in the chapel of my dorm with several friends from the London program. Holy Door at Westminster Cathedral Participating in these things with my mom, grandma, and youth minister has emphasized a very important, very timely reminder just before we head to Rome: pilgrimages are just as internal they are external. Our special time in London has begun to prepare us internally for our encounter with Christ in Rome on Easter morning. And over the next several days, as we continue journeying through Holy Week, everything we encounter will further this preparation. Tomorrow, we head to Rome. I can hardly wait to experience Italy for the first time and to taste its world-famous gelato. But even more so, I am looking forward to making a pilgrimage to one of the most important places in the Catholic faith with three of the most important women in my life.
- Thank You, Study Abroad: I Believe in SoulmatesWhat happens when three women and two men from five different dorms, five different home states, and five different majors become friends in London, England? They embark on a week-long journey to Berlin, Germany; Prague, Czech Republic; Vienna, Austria; and Budapest, Hungary together, of course. And they manage to emerge on the other side even closer friends than when they began their adventure. One of the most beautiful things about the study abroad program at Notre Dame is the social aftermath. I first noticed it at the start of junior year: my friends who were freshly minted members of the senior class returned to campus from their summer breaks particularly energized. This could be attributed to a myriad of causes, of course: particularly enjoyable summers, time spent with friends and family away from stressful schoolwork, the opportunity to return to their home under the Dome for one last hurrah…but this particular energy very clearly fed off of one another. It was the reunions in the hallways of my dorm between people I didn’t know knew each other that I noticed. The seniors running across South Quad and shouting across North Dining Hall to greet people walking in different groups and chatting in various circles. Somehow, the whole of the senior class seemed to know each other come the great Return to Campus. Boundaries had disappeared. Social groups had merged and morphed and melted together. I have a theory that all of this is due to the study abroad program at Notre Dame, and that it happens, or at least has the potential to happen, every year. It’s part of what makes senior year at ND so sweet: whether students study abroad first semester, second semester, over the summer, or not at all, new friendships flourish as people come and go from campus and study abroad destinations all over the world. I feel incredibly fortunate to know that this study abroad social effect is already shaping me in a big way. Take my flat (aka apartment) in London, for example: six of us live together from five different dorms, two different home countries, and six completely different friend groups and activity sets on campus. Perhaps some of us could have become friends at Notre Dame through a mutual friend or by chance, but up until junior year none of us knew each other beyond being distant acquaintances. It took randomly sorting us into a six-person flat in London, England for us to become friends and incredibly compatible roommates. When we begin introducing one another to the friends we so often chat about after we return to campus senior year, the study abroad social effect will begin to run its course: friendships will breed friendships. Social groups will merge and morph and melt together. We will continue to develop close relationships with people we never would have met otherwise, not because we are incompatible, but because we never had someone or something nudging us towards one another before. Flat dinner: Photo by Laura Gruszka I can point to so many friendships that have developed during this first half of my time abroad with a similar air of awe. They have happened unbelievably naturally, and many have developed because we had heard about one another from mutual friends on campus. Many of these friendships are with people that I know I will be close to for the rest of my life. What a crazy thing to think, that it was London that brought us together at last; sometimes I wonder how in the world I have not had them in my life during my whole college journey. And yet… Study abroad has made me believe in soulmates. Not in the romantic sense, but in the friendship sense. I believe that God forms people towards special, close connections with others through life experiences, personalities, interests, etc., and that this process is gradual and lifelong. Sometimes, it takes something like London to act as a catalyst for friendships between such soulmates, who have been shaped towards the potential of being excellent companions for one another. I had the privilege of traveling across central Europe with four of my soulmates this past week for spring break. In these four people and in many more from the London program, I have found lifelong friendships. Many of us knew one another before coming to London, and they were all people I hoped to bond with prior to the start of the semester, but I could not have predicted that we would seamlessly form an unbelievably compatible group dynamic fit for journeying across Europe together for nine days. Over spring break, God and these four people were my only constants, and that was perfectly fine by me. My spring break travel group knows me so well. They could tell you my favorite “fill-in-the-blank” because we have quizzed one another on endless random favorite things. They could share with you my hopes and dreams and what makes me sad or frustrated, because we have played silly would-you-rather games and shared in deep late-night conversations about life. They could tell you what my daily routine looks like and which foods I crave on a regular basis and what sets my heart ablaze and what makes me belly laugh until I cry, because they have witnessed all of these things firsthand. And I think I could tell you many of these things about them: we have learned how to know and love each other quite well quite quickly, because that is how this whole soulmate thing works. When people are successfully pursuing the selves God has created them to be and striving to align their desires with His, friendships with likeminded and likehearted others doing the same become practically effortless. The close friendships I have had the opportunity to form while abroad owe a lot to London: our mutual study abroad circumstances were certainly a facilitator for many of the relationships I have developed this semester, and I cannot pretend that they all would have formed naturally had I been on campus for all of junior year. Yet these friendships are not dependent on London. The things that have formed the basis of our friendships – endless laughter, silly and serious conversation, celebrating Mass, cooking and eating delicious food, cozying up with popcorn and blankets for movie nights – are some of my favorite things to do in “real life.” They have nothing at all to do with the location in which they happen, which proved true for the five spring break adventurers as we tested the waters of our friendships in Berlin, Prague, Vienna, and Budapest this past week. I am sure this stability of friendship beyond London will be consistent with many other “abroad” friendships, too. London gifted us with the opportunity to be friends, but eventual absence from London will not prevent us from remaining friends. When I asked one of my best friends here if he remembers when we weren’t friends, he replied “no,” to which I responded, “yeah, me neither.” And then he said something that summarizes my thoughts on friendships formed as a result of the study abroad program pretty well: “we were always friends; we just didn’t know it yet.”
