Chapter 1 - Strange world
The sun turns the sky a soft pink, while the first rays of the morning are reflected on the surface of the water. I let my gaze wander over the campus that spreads out before me - a place full of new possibilities, but also full of uncertainty.
My hands shake slightly as I clutch the piece of paper in my hands. It’s my schedule for the first semester, and the thought of attending my first art classes tomorrow is making my nerves tense to breaking point. The fear of the unknown gnaws at me as I wonder whether I am up to the demands of my studies. Can I really keep up? Will I be able to live up to expectations?
A cool wind caresses my cheeks and raises goosebumps on my skin. I pull my jacket tighter around me, as if it could offer me some protection from my own doubts at this moment. The gentle waves of the lake have a calming effect on me and I watch the water lilies sway gently in the gentle waves, but my insides are anything but calm. The thoughts of the challenges ahead and the expectations I have of myself make my heart beat faster.
I take a deep breath, trying to control the rising panic. This is a new chapter in my life that I am consciously approaching, but it feels like I am walking towards the edge of an abyss. The freedom that college promises is as overwhelming as it is frightening. I know that I will grow, that I will open myself to new ideas and perspectives, but the process is not without fears and uncertainties.
As I look out over the lake, I try to imagine how I will remember in a few years - this moment, the beginning of my university journey. Maybe I’ll smile and wonder why I was so worried. Maybe I’ll be proud of the hurdles I’ve overcome and the friendships I’ve made.
The sound of voices and laughter catches my attention as other students gather on the shore of the lake. They are people who, like me, find themselves in a sea of change. And maybe, just maybe, we can support and encourage each other as we move forward into this new world.
I take another deep breath, let my fear blow away in the wind, and slowly stand up. My first day of college may be scary, but I’m ready to take on the challenge. With every step I take towards the university buildings, my resolve to welcome this experience with open arms and make the most of it grows.
The morning air is fresh and invigorating as I slowly rise from my spot on the lakeshore. A warm glow begins to spread across the horizon as the sun gradually rises higher. The birds chirp happily in the background, adding to the calming atmosphere that surrounds me. I let the moment sink in for a moment longer before I take my eyes off the picturesque scenery.
With a firm resolve within me to overcome my insecurities, my schedule folds in my hand as I slowly lead the steps towards the university buildings. I remember the words of my family and friends who encouraged me to approach this new phase of my life with confidence. The freedom to delve into my passion for art studies is a privilege that I would not want to give up lightly.
As I reach the ivy-covered buildings, I feel a mix of excitement and tension. The hallways are still quiet, but I know they will soon be filled with curious and eager students. A smile crosses my face as I think of all the people I will meet who are just as eager to discover and share their passions.
The first lecture hall appears before me and I enter it with a lump in my throat and a pounding in my chest. As I find a place and sit down, I let my gaze wander over the faces of my fellow students. Each of us has a story, fears and dreams that led us here.
“It’s okay,” I hear the voice of a young woman who looks about my age. “We are all new here. Where are you originally from?”
I look at her timidly.
“From Maine,” I answer.
The young woman smiles.
“You’ve come quite a long way to get here to UCLA in Los Angeles,” she notices. “By the way, my name is Madeleine. I’m from Burbank.”
“You have a French name,” I point out.
“Yes,” replied Madeleine. “My parents are originally from Canada. But we have been living in California for more than 10 years.” Madeleine looks at me with a questioning look. “What’s your name?” she finally wants to know.
“Amber Collins,” I say, no less shy than I have been all along.
At that moment the professor enters the room. The class immediately falls silent.
She appears confident and exudes an aura of experience. Her presence fills the room and all eyes turn to her. She greets the class with a warm smile and begins to introduce herself. Her words are encouraging and inspiring at the same time, and I feel my tension gradually easing.
As the professor discusses the curriculum and expectations, it becomes clear that she has a deep passion for art history. She emphasizes the importance of critical thinking and discussion in the academic environment. The enthusiasm in her voice is contagious and I begin to look forward to the upcoming courses.
The round of introductions among the students begins, and little by little we talk about our backgrounds, interests and expectations. I’m impressed by the diversity of stories and personalities, and I’m starting to feel welcome in this new community.
The hours pass quickly as the professor delves into the details of the first topic. I am impressed by your ability to explain complex concepts in an understandable way. I diligently take notes and feel my interest in art history continue to grow.
During a short break, Madeleine turns to me again.
“The professor seems really amazing, doesn’t she?”
I nod in agreement and reply, “Yes, definitely. Her passion is contagious.”
The first few days pass and I find myself settling more and more into the rhythm of university life. The initial uncertainty gives way to a feeling of belonging. Madeleine and I become good friends and we discover common interests and hobbies.
Our study group is growing closer together and the discussions are becoming more lively. We share our thoughts about works of art, artists and different cultural influences. The challenges of academic demands are real, but the support of fellow students and the deep enjoyment of what we learn keep us motivated.
Los Angeles. I’ve been here for seven days now. I haven’t even left campus since I’ve been here. I don’t know the exact reason. Maybe it was the fear of being alone. Maybe in the last few days I’ve gotten so used to living together with my fellow students.
This evening - it’s already 10 p.m. - I’m sitting by the lake again and looking at the full schedule for the first semester. I think to myself, now it’s time to dare to do something. Now it’s time to leave the nest - and God knows I’ve been there for far too long.
I haven’t told any of my fellow students yet, but for me the journey of leaving home and moving to the other side of the United States was very difficult. Yes, my parents wanted me to study. But they never actually believed that I would get into UCLA, one of the top universities in the USA.
Now I’m here. Am I satisfied? I’m happy?
I notice that I still haven’t gotten over my initial shyness. But I want it so much. I want to be independent and dare to do things.
Tonight I’ll do it. I drive to the city. I’ll drive into Los Angeles, then have a coffee on the pier somewhere in Santa Monica or Venice and soak up the atmosphere. Yes, today I dare.
The thoughts in my head swirl as I prepare to step out of my comfort zone. I get up, fold the schedule and put it in my bag. One last look at the lake, shining calmly in the darkness, and then I set off. The city lights twinkle in the distance like stars on the horizon.
The journey into the city is exciting and scary at the same time. The streets are busy, the hum of the city fills the air. As I move through the crowds, I feel my heart beating faster. The lure of shops, cafes and restaurants is overwhelming. I pause, take a deep breath and remember why I’m here.
I find a cozy spot on the Santa Monica pier, overlooking the ocean. I order a coffee and let the warm mug warm my hands. As I watch the goings-on around me, I feel alive. The sounds of the waves, the laughter of people and the rush of the street merge into a calming background.
Slowly but surely I notice how my nervousness is subsiding. The realization that I took this step fills me with pride. I think about my first few days on campus, the fears I overcame, and how I slowly crawled out of my shell. This evening is another step in that direction.
As time passes, the city becomes quieter. People retreat and the lights cast soft glows on the water. I smile to myself and feel the darkness around me bring a certain serenity. The uncertainty from before gives way to a feeling of contentment.
I sit on the sand on the beach after walking around Santa Monica for a while. I take some sand in my hand and let it slide through my fingers.
“No, no one knows,” I whisper quietly to myself. “No one knows why you’re really here, Amber Collins.”
When I finally make my way back to campus, I feel strengthened. The steps are easier and I know I will continue to move forward on this new path I have chosen. The city showed me that I have more courage than I thought. And as I return to the familiar paths, I am ready to face the coming days and weeks with even more determination and openness.
