Oh, God. Not again.

Sam Daub is an incoming Medill freshman from Eden Prairie, Minn. Photo courtesy of the author.

Freshman year. I thought I got that over with the last time I was a freshman. Thanks to the miracle of Xanga, I’m actually able to look back to 2005 and see the person I was. I’ll be honest: It’s pretty embarrassing. All the entries were about either video games or Lost. And my “now listening to” box always—always—had an Oasis album. Because nobody rocks harder than Liam Gallagher. Nobody.

Basically, it’s history’s most inconsequential primary document.

Needless to say, I was pretty awkward as a freshman in high school. I had left the safety of the middle school and suddenly was thrown into the shark tank that is high school. And all the sharks swore and partied. I usually told people my lack of partying was due to some moral objection, but the truth was that little freshman Sam never got invited to any of those sexy high school parties.

Of course, I didn’t think there was anything dorky about myself at the time. I spent my first pep rally at Eden Prairie High School sitting at the edge of the bleachers with some friends, poring over a printout of an IGN news article about the newly revealed controller for the Nintendo Revolution. I really do feel for the poor soul who had to sit in front of my friends and me as we raved about the “potential” of what would become the Nintendo Wii Remote. I was a pretty annoying little dude. The barely post-pubescent voice couldn’t have helped matters. But were happy, and it was times like those that probably got us through the year.

At least I went into high school with a pre-existing network of friends and acquaintances. Sure, I had to stop a teacher in the halls a couple of times to ask where the nearest staircase was, but at least I was entering that unfamiliar territory with people I had known for years.

It all reminds me of the first time my homeroom met, freshman year of high school. Our freshman orientation included a walkthrough of the daily schedule, which started that morning with a brief introduction to homeroom. Our advisor was running late, so we spent probably fifteen minutes sitting in silence. Staring at the front of the class. Avoiding eye contact. Trying to hide the trauma we were experiencing.

There were twenty of us. We didn’t really know each other. Our last names were close on the alphabet, but that was about it. The similarities ended there. Four years later, homeroom was a very different experience. We weren’t best friends, but we knew each other. It wasn’t awkward. In fact, it was what I suspect is the exact opposite of awkward.

It was chill. I don’t need to be everyone’s best friend. I can work with chill.

Which brings me to today, six weeks before Wildcat Welcome week. Six weeks before I throw out the modest social ascension I’ve made over the past four years. Six weeks before I start again. I was never exactly the Queen Bee — or King Shark, if we’re sticking to this shark metaphor — but I almost managed to carve out a niche for myself in the social order, and that was good enough for me.

I guess it helps to know that everyone will be in the same situation. I think that’s where the awkwardness comes in. It’s a lack of a sense of belonging. High school was difficult when I felt like I was on the fringe, and it only became comfortable when I could figure out where I fit into school life. I didn’t have to conform, but I did need a reason to show up every day.

I’m sure that’s what will happen again. I’ll make some friends, find some classes I enjoy, and then some of the awkwardness will fade. I’m sure, looking back at this entry four years from now, it’ll all come back to me — all the uncomfortable introductions, the cringe-inducing faux pas, the mindless small talk. “Wow,” I’ll someday think to myself. “I’m glad that’s over.”

It’s easy to lose that sense of perspective, though. I’d be a lot more worried about the next year if I hadn’t already made it through a similar experience four years ago. I did it once, and by God I’ll be able to do it again.

Perspective. That’s what I’ve got to keep through all this. Four years ago, I was blogging on my Xanga about my first weeks of high school. Here I am, blogging on North by Northwestern about my first weeks of college.

Talk about progress. Six weeks, and then it’s back in the shark tank.

Currently Listening:
(What’s the Story) Morning Glory
By Oasis