wheaton, bubbles, and the experience formerly known as graduation

A year ago tomorrow, I wore a ridiculous hat, walked across a platform chanting internally "don't trip, don't trip, don't trip," shook the hand of a man I'd never met before, and received a piece of paper covered with a whole bunch of cursive writing.

Graduation sounds so absurd when you put it that way.

I've had a lot of time to reflect on the end of my time at Wheaton...a whole year, in fact. As grateful as I am that I had 4 years there to grow and mature, I wish I'd had the wisdom to anticipate the transition out.

"The Wheaton Bubble" is what we named the insular nature of our college. I'm sure other Christian colleges had their own bubbles, so we're not special in that regard. Wheaton doesn't have a monopoly on community, either, but there's something about the Wheaton Bubble and the Wheaton Community that alums carry with them.

While I was still a part of both, they were simply punch lines. What does one do on a Friday night? The options are pretty limited, thanks to the Wheaton bubble. And good luck keeping secrets in the Wheaton community.

Except now that I've left, they aren't punch lines anymore. I genuinely miss belonging to both the bubble and the community. I find myself willing to overlook all the unhealthy habits, all the backbiting, all the gossip, all the ways we ignore and hurt one another when we (women in particular) live together in community. Dwelling on the negatives helps me feel better about being out and very very far away from the people that defined "Wheaton Community" for me. Remembering the positive, helpful, beautiful things about the Wheaton community stirs up an intense longing, though.

The truth is, I don't do transitions well. Had I chosen a college closer to home, I probably would have shown up for high school drama performances and home basketball games until someone gave me a weird look and said, "What are you doing here?" Except not basketball because I hate basketball. Given the chance, I definitely would have been that kid.

So it's good that I chose an out of state college, and it is also good that I spent my first year out of college on another continent. It forced me to transition (the "over-and-done-with" verb, not the "complicated-and-lengthy-process" noun), and while I've experienced the full spectrum of feelings from "Screw community who needs it" to "Please I need some place to belong," I think I've learned how to be an adult, not because I had the option, but because I did not.

As the class of 2010 walks tomorrow, I wish them both a peaceful transition out of Wheaton and another source of community, and the wisdom to tell the difference.