This is my first post of the week and it’s not due to poor time management. I simply wanted to post after the 9/11 anniversary. So many remember exactly what they were doing and as much as I try to, I can only remember days afterwards watching the news. As a 6 year old, all I knew was that many people had died. I could not comprehend the emotions of others and the effect that grim day would have on me.
My oldest brother had joined the Marines months before September and I was already missing him dearly. I was probably the last in my house to understand what this meant and how ugly it was going to get.
Oh lord did it get ugly.
I began acting up in school and my grades saw the worst of it. I could see the effect it had on my parents, as much as they tried to make it obscure. My birthday cakes always ended with tears. Not only my tears, but those of family who had been there to celebrate with me. The extremely rare phone calls were the cherished highlights of the month along with the letters I got from my brother. I read those letters over and over, and over again.
When ever I had recess, I vividly remember asking myself “How the HELL can you be running around playing tag when your beloved brother is risking his life day and night?” Guilt plagued me, and I tried to do anything I could to help my brother. Care packages and prayer were the most I could think of.
By the grace of God he was able to come back alive, but not all mothers and families were fortunate enough to hold their sons, brothers, and sisters one last time.
I promise to not post any more blogs like this one. I just want to remember and thank the fallen Soldiers, the Firefighters, the Police Officers, and the First Responders. Respect and thank all in the service past or present.
I want to thank my big brother,
It’s my first complete week of Wabash and I cannot stress the importance of time management. The amount of free time is extensive and as much as I would love to play Cut Throat all day after class, there is always homework and reading to fill the free time. I understand the importance in every reading assignment I am given, including the extremely descriptive Native American Accoma scalp rituals, and I am thankful for the friends that feel the same way. The greatest benefit of small classes and small campus is that the same guys I have a bunch of my classes with are the same guys in my dorm and my Chapel Sing brothers.
Let me take a bit to explain what Chapel Sing is and why I have not been able to sing in falsetto in Glee Club anymore. Chapel Sing is one of the many homecoming
Photo Provided by Rudy Altergott
traditions/competitions at Wabash between the freshman fraternity pledges and independents. Basically you line up and bellow out “Old Wabash” (the Wabash fight song) and repeat it for about 45 minutes and the Sphinx Club members (The Keepers of Wabash Tradition) will scream in your ears and sing other songs to mess you up. If you mess up you are sent inside the Chapel where you are asked to sing it again, if you mess up then you get a red “W” spray painted on your white shirt and you are sent back outside where everyone will see the scarlet “W.”
In the history of Wabash, independents have never won Chapel Sing, but the current Independent Chapel Sing brothers and I have been practicing ferociously. Never the less as I write this blog I have listened to “Old Wabash” well over 15 times. The amount of time we have put into Chapel Sing practice, Class of 2017 Independents will win Chapel Sing for past, present and future independent freshman.
Thanks for dropping and I hope we can all agree that the “greatest joy will [always] be to shout the chorus” of our beloved Fight Song, “Old Wabash”
My name is Alejandro Reyna and I am entering as a Glee Club member, Jazz band bassist and an independent at Martindale Hall. The weather here is nice and cool compared to Houston’s humid filled heat. It is very different but I am loving every minute of it. I am looking forward to this hectic year and all the enriching traditions that run deep at Wabash.
Though I am still feeling the aftermath of last week’s hot dog from a convenience store on I-65 that did not stop me from making new friends during orientation. I guess it is just out of curiosity or the urge to make friends that talking about how different the trees in Indiana are to those back home is so interesting. I am not from around Indiana or around India like my new roommate, but back home the trees don’t grow as green as they do in Crawfordsville.
The most asked questions while meeting new people were by far, “So where are you from” and “How did you hear about Wabash?” Coming from a school in Houston, Texas where everyone I knew was Hispanic, having to say who I am and where I come from over and over was getting under my skin. I did not see why anyone could be interested where I was from while simultaneously I was in awe asking others those same questions. Now that I am sitting in my dorm room (Dirty Dale) writing about it, it’s clear that I’m not the only one who has thought about how close we have gotten in just one week.
Your typical ‘hipster’ or ‘jock’ cannot be pointed out at Wabash because the culture of the school and of the students is clustering into one. College in its self can’t compare to the frivolity of high school, but as I keep hearing many say, “It’s Wabash and we are Serious.” Wabash traditions are something you have to experience for yourself to fully understand the difference between a liberal arts college and Wabash College.