The Story
Campus Community: It's a Small World
The College of William & Mary is a community of a little under six thousand undergraduates. This makes us a relatively small student body, and when you compare us to other schools in the state -- say UVA or VCU -- we look even smaller.
That being said, I graduated high school with a class of 420. I chose to come to the College in part because of its small size, but in the first two weeks of my freshman year, I couldn’t really see anything "small" about this place.
Yet by the third week of school, I was convinced that this place was tiny. My shift in attitude was sudden, dramatic and induced by a mind-boggling chain of events. I imagine that you will have at least one such experience in your time here, probably not long after you arrive, but to help you grasp the concept, I’ll share my story.
Let me set the scene:
It’s the third Friday of the fall 2009 semester, around 6:50 p.m. A few guys from my hall are playing basketball at the Student Rec Center. Chasing after a loose ball, I run into a wall, bracing the impact with my hand (author’s note: never do this).
As the play moves back down court, I realize a bulge is growing behind my pinky.
Even my brief understanding of human physiology knows that this is not good. I run as quickly as I can off the basketball court and straight down to the Health Center.
I arrive at the Health Center out of breath only to learn that it closes at 5 p.m. on Friday.
Trying not to panic I tell myself, "It’s probably just dislocated and someone will be able to fix it."
I run back to the Rec, getting there right around 7 p.m.
The guy behind the help desk at the Rec is finishing his 2:00-7:00 shift, about to walk out the door and into the oblivion that is Friday night. I catch him nonetheless. This is desperation.
"Hey man," I say, still heaving from my run, "I’ve got a problem I was hoping you could help me with." I hold up my hand (the bulge is a good three inches high at this point). "Can you just pull on this for me?" I point to my finger.
The peace and tranquility of a normal Friday at the College flies from his face. "Oh God!" he yells. "What, what is that?"
I slowly catch my breath, and I start explaining: "Well I just ran into the wall playing basketball and I think I dislocated my pinky, but I’m pretty sure I can just pull it back into place. But I don’t want to do it myself, and I really need someone to do it for me, so can you just give a short, sharp kind of pull?"
He’s a little thrown.
"Uh, no. I don’t think you want to do that man. Let me get you some ice." He runs off to get some ice, saying, "Just hold on one second, just one second."
He comes running back, ice in hand: "We’ve got to find you a ride to MedExpress."
I had effectively convinced myself that it wasn’t a serious injury, and I did not want to go to the hospital. "Really," I start, almost pleading, "I think if you just give it a tug, just like, a tug."
"No man, this looks bad."
The Rec Guy quickly walks me back to my dorm, Fauquier Hall. "We’ve got to get you a ride," he says. Soon enough a Fauquier R.A. and I are driving away.
MedExpress is the closest emergency room to campus. What a great place.
I remember a little of it. I had an X-Ray taken and then this guy with a mustache said, "It’s definitely broken." Then he pulled on my pinky, and it snapped back into place.
That is the worst pain I have felt to this day.
Talk about traumatizing! Two hours before I was playing basketball; then my hand was wrapped in an Ace bandage.
I got back to campus around nine. At some point I put on jeans and grabbed a sandwich from the Java City Cafe at the Caf. Then I realized that jeans were just unnecessary, and I went up to my room to begin the process of taking them off with one hand.
What a disaster. I was away from home for the first time in my life, expected to do things for myself, and I couldn’t even take my pants off. I started to sink to a very low point.
I’d got the zipper down when I heard a knock at my door. I was exhausted, too tired to care, so I just opened it with my pants half-off.
About ten people were standing at my door, and my older brother (an undergrad at VCU) stood at the front.
One person held a balloon that read, "Happy Birthday!" They were all smiling.
"Hey Max," my brother said. "Want to go to a party?"
There was a slight pause, and then: "What happened to your hand?"
I hadn’t seen or really even spoken to my brother since July. This was surreal, absolutely surreal.
"Oh, I think I broke it." Everyone outside my door was still smiling.
"Let me put my pants on."
I closed the door and frantically zipped up my jeans and threw on my shoes.
Evidently my brother knew some guys from high school that go to the College. They were off to a party at the units, where most of the on-campus fraternity houses are located.
I had never been to a college party, and I what I saw did not disappoint. Things got crazy.
In the span of 20 minutes, what had started off as one of the worst nights in my life became the best night of the year.
Then something crazier happened, and I understood.
The Rec Guy walked in the room.
I found out later that the same guy who wouldn’t pull on my pinky at the Rec Center and found me a ride to MedExpress was the president of the fraternity that was hosting the party to which my brother (all the way from Richmond) was invited.
Sounds confusing, I know, but it was right then that I realized how truly small this school is. Nowhere else could the person who saw my life fly into disarray arrange the best way to remedy my problem in a matter of hours, all without knowing it.
When you come here to the College, you may think that this community is big or small (or enormous). Regardless of what you believe, I can guarantee you that by simply setting foot on this campus, you are more connected to these people than you could ever imagine.