Tufts Blogs

Going to Tufts was a big change for me. Having been stuck in the drudgery of zoom school at the time, my approach towards the college search process was to prioritize my ideals over my comforts. The new and unfamiliar did not deter me. Questions of climate, culture, and location were irrelevant when compared to a college’s academic and social values. If the school aligned with my ideals, what did it matter if it was in Minnesota, Texas, or Massachusetts? Approaching college this way seemed logical when I was spending most of my days isolated and in my own head. But once I, a Texan, arrived at Tufts and was alone in Boston for the first time, getting ready to embark on my first backpacking trip with people I had never met, I started to freak out. I had never been to Massachusetts before, my family knew no one in the Northeast, and I was the only one from my high school going to Tufts. It felt as if the COVID isolation that I had so desperately crawled out of had transformed and followed me in a new form. 

The day after I arrived, I was in the middle of the woods in Maine, beginning my first day of TWO (Tufts Wilderness Orientation). After the anxiety of the previous day, I retracted inside of myself and was reserved during the initial group small talk. But as we spent more time alone on the trail, nature started to break down the social barriers. The inherent meditative effect of hiking amidst the antithesis of civilization created a shift in the conversations and mannerisms of the group towards authenticity. The initial hurdle of awkwardness had been supplanted by real conversations in a few hours. While I still knew next to nothing about each individual’s life, since we had only been together a few hours, the accepting and candid vibe of the group allowed me to connect on a fundamentally human level with them. As someone who values authenticity above all else, it was refreshing to be in an environment where I could truly be myself and where I was surrounded by authentic peers. 

I describe this experience in abstractions because the cold hard facts of that first day were not great. It was cold, rainy, and muddy, and I was exhausted while walking on two blisters. It rained all night and we had to sleep without an inch of space. Despite this, whenever I think of TWO, I think of how relieved I was to finally be in an environment where everyone acted as themselves. An environment like this was something I had long desired and strived for, and as a result the physical discomfort I felt was relegated to a liminal space in my memory. 

While being alone in the woods for a week with my TWO group allowed me to make close friendships with that set of people, when I left the woods and was surrounded by 5,000 Tufts students the authenticity never went away. On campus it doesn’t matter if I’m talking to an artist, a swimmer, a programmer, or an engineer, I can always be myself. 

A last note. Authenticity naturally requires vulnerability, which can often lead to conflict. Especially when you’re surrounded by a diverse group of people who have lived for 18 years before ever meeting you, voicing your true thoughts will bring conflict. What I love so much about the community of Tufts, however, is that authenticity and acceptance go hand-in-hand. When people here disagree with or are offended by what you say, they will tell you. But it’s never from the perspective of ostracizing the initial speaker. Rather, there is generally a fundamental basis of acceptance and a desire for growth. From the conflicts I’ve been in, I come away feeling like I’ve learned and grown, and never feel like the person who confronted me thinks less of me. This basis of authenticity and acceptance has surrounded me with people, both in TWO and at Tufts, that can always make my either literal or metaphorical rainy days enjoyable.