Packing up a freshman dorm room and leaving behind a blank slate

It’s the time of the year when we embrace our inner Disney Channel Original Movie, stare at the clock as the seconds tick by and whisper the word over and over again. Summer. Summer. Summer.

Summer is almost here, but before we can head off home to our high school friends and family dogs, there are a few things we have to take care of. Well, there’s one thing. One gigantic thing.

Packing. We spent so much time on our Pinterest boards, trying to figure out how to make dorm décor actually sound like a good thing, and now we have to pack it all away. The posters and Christmas lights will come down, and the winter coats and warm sweaters will get stuffed into boxes.

Some things will end up in storage, some things will be packed to head home, and some things will be hurriedly eaten before the rental people take away my fridge. I’ll pull everything out of my wardrobe, and I’ll empty my drawers, and before I know it, my dorm room will be the same blank slate it was when I moved in.

Come August, a bright-eyed kid will move into my room, and he or she will never know about all the Netflix I watched, all the problem sets I did, or all the Chipotle burritos I ate. My room will belong to someone else. It will become a home for another stressed out student, a safe haven for when the library has become too dark and dismal, a place of privilege from which to watch the problems unfold in the outside world.

Before I get too philosophical about all the people that will someday live in my piece of the Hopkins bubble, let’s get back to the point. Summer is a wonderful time, full of sunshine and laughter and other Disney clichés. But heading home also means we’re saying goodbye.

It’ll be another three months before I’ll get to lie on the Beach with my friends again. Sure, I’ll get to lie on an actual beach with sand and water and different friends, but it’s not the same. Nothing beats the feeling of lying on the grass underneath a cloudless blue sky with the knowledge that you’ve finished all your work for the weekend.

I won’t be able to just walk across the hall or down the stairs or across the street to hang out with my best friends. Dorm life might be completely terrible, but something must be said for the convenience and ease of getting your friends together. That’s something I’ll miss over the summer, when I’ll be driving three hours to visit my best friend at her too-cool-for-me internship.

For most of us, leaving Hopkins also means we’re leaving Baltimore. Sure, the city has its flaws, but doesn’t every city? After the violence following the death of Freddie Gray, the community of Baltimore has really come together to heal the wounds.

On Tuesday, April 28, Baltimore’s public schools were closed after Monday night’s riots. Many children depend on the free lunch programs offered, and it seemed like these children would go hungry for a day. However, using #BaltimoreLunch on Twitter, many members of the community volunteered to feed the hungry students. Red Emma’s, an independent bookstore and restaurant, offered free meals to students, and Baltimore’s 29th Street Community Center made food, movies, games and arts and crafts available to these children.

Even right here at home, the community stood together. Our social media outlets were aflame with comments about the riots and the protests, and although we may not share the same opinions, at least we are aware of what is happening outside of the Hopkins bubble.

Also on Tuesday, the Hopkins Christian Fellowship (HCF) organized a gathering of students on Keyser Quad to pray for those in Baltimore who are not as safe and as privileged as the members of the Hopkins community. This prayer circle included not just members of HCF, but students of many different backgrounds, all coming together to show that they care about this city.

Yeah, things in Baltimore aren’t fantastic, but at least we’re bringing a community together.

So as I pack all my free Hopkins T-shirts into suitcases and fold my bed sheets into boxes, I’ll be thinking about Freddie Gray and all the protesters whose names I don’t know. As I try to figure out what to do with all of my shoes, I’ll remember all the good times, too, as I fall into the gentle embrace of nostalgia, reminiscing about all the hours I spent watching Netflix instead of doing my homework. I’ll remember the nights spent out full of glitter and flashing lights and loud music, and the nights spent in with mozzarella sticks and movies and crazy stories.

Soon, I’ll watch the room I spent so long making my own become just an empty shell. So many memories will get packed neatly into boxes and suitcases, and I’ll get packed into an airplane full of people with stories I’ll never get to read. Maybe some of them are also leaving behind a blank canvas. Maybe some of them know this feeling, of leaving behind such a stressful school and a tormented city for the safety of white suburbia while still being sad about leaving the place that drove me crazy these last few months and exposed me to problems I hadn’t believed in.

See you all in the fall, Hopkids.