In the spring of 2017, my dad and I stood in the back of a tour group, sweating in the unfamiliar Virginia heat. Students crowded the Lawn: reading on blankets, eating lunch on the Rotunda steps, chatting with friends under shady trees. A Frisbee flew over us, and a guy yelled, “Heads!” Our tour guide paused, swinging her red ponytail around, as we watched him chase the disc, and I imagined what it would be like to be one of these students.
As our tour guide navigated us through Grounds, passersby kept calling out her name. Occasionally, she described how she knew them: “There’s a friend from my engineering classes. … That’s someone who lived on my hall first year. … There’s someone I know from a club.”
My dad whispered to me, “It seems like she knows everyone at this school.”
Over a year later, I called my mom from my UVA dorm room. In my first week of school, I felt homesick and lonely. The activities fair, an event where student organizations set up booths and recruit new members, was later that day. I told my mom that I wasn’t going to attend.
“Go and see what happens,” she said. “You know you’re going to call me sad because you have to leave this place one day.”
“Doubtful,” I thought, but I resolved to go to the activities fair anyway.
Walking around, I saw a group of students passing out fliers to become a tour guide. I remembered my tour guide and how comfortable she seemed here.