Realities Collide

Any time you go through a major, unplanned life transition, there are points in time where the norms of one 'life' collide with the norms of the other 'life.' Considering the magnitude of my recent transition from life in dorms at a tiny college in a small town, to life in an apartment near a bigger university in a gigantic city, then, it's no surprise that this has happened to me quite frequently.

The social atmosphere feels like an entirely separate universe. Sometimes, I just don't get it, and sometimes, the biggest differences really frustrate me. The academic climate is of a different variety, too. Not better or worse, but just a slightly different set of rules.

I've made more than a couple of "cultural" blunders at City University, where I've discovered with surprise that certain customs that I thought were universal apparently only apply to Small College. Of course, my efforts after that to be more cautious and assume nothing also raised an eyebrow or two when I failed to act on standards I apparently should have known existed. Oh well. Live and learn.

A few days ago, I had a pretty major criss-crossing-of-realities moment. It was the day of the first choir performance of the year, at City University's campus-opening ceremony for the public. And that was the day I went through all my standard pre-choir rituals that have become familiar through many, many repetitions on the S.C. campus, on weekend extensions, and in Ukraine.

For the first time since Ukraine, I took my ever-familiar choir uniform out of my beat up garment bag and put it on again. It was all the same, down to the black shoes that carried me through the initial terrors of my first year in S.C. Touring Choir , through jittery PR speeches, through wonderful music-making, through never-again closing performances at S.C., and through the streets of Kiev, Kirovograd, and countless other Ukrainian cities and towns.

Yes, it was all very much the same, and yet, entirely different. This time, there was no excited, chatter-filled gathering of singers out in the residence hallways before we all traipsed across campus together, knowing that people knew when they saw us, "There goes the choir!" No, that day, I picked up my music, slipped out of my silent apartment, and out onto the sidewalk of a busy city road, feeling pretty conspicuous and odd-looking in a long, flowing black skirt and black dress shirt in the middle of a warm weekend afternoon. It was while I was walking that all these differences hit me. You see, these skirts are really long and really flowing, due to many layers of fabric in them, so walking in one poses particular challenges. That skirt is like an inside joke with myself by now. I have to laugh at it every time I go somewhere wearing it. But you know how as people, we are capable of unconsciously creating very strong associations with certain sense stimuli. Maybe it's the smell of a certain person's perfume. Or a very particular song we heard a lot at a certain time in our lives. Whatever it is, revisiting that stimulus can instantly and powerfully bring back a whole flood of memories. I'm sure you know what I mean. Well, the combination of walking with this skirt, carrying my music, and the tiny bit of pre-performance nerves and excitement did just that for me. Except that it was the contrast that stood out this time. Those things are so closely tied for me to the ultra-close community of last year's choir, the atmosphere at S.C., Ukraine perhaps, and my whole state of mind at that time in my life. I guess that's the part of all this that might not be really clear to all of you who are, thankfully, outside of my mind. But the contrast between the warmth of all those memories and experiences, to the intense contrast of walking down a noisy, crowded city street, alone, headed to the grand opening of a school that I'm still doing my best to affiliate myself with despite strong ties and also strong bitterness and hurt from my old school - it was like a stone in my gut.

The celebrations, both days, however, were really excellent. The campus is certainly worth all the hooplah. It's gorgeous. And you know, in the end, I had a good time myself, too. Singing with such a talented group on such great music was a thrill. A huge thrill. And while there were times while I was standing up there where it felt like my mind and heart were flipping between the past and present, most of the time, I was truly and sincerely celebrating this great event in the history of the school that I do call "my school" now.

One of the best highlights of the entire weekend was driving out for smoothies, good conversation, and a celebrate-the-gorgeous-day sort of frolic through a field in the warm sun, with a group of really fantastic and fascinating girls whom I'm really looking forward to getting to know better through the year. We shared good drinks, good laughs, and got our dress shoes so muddy that we had to paper towel them down when we got back to campus. It was one of those moments that is so purely good that it reminds you how awesome life can be, in the middle of all the insanity and pressure. And also that just because you leave something really good does not mean that there will never again be good of the same variety in your life.