Dear Carolina: Sorry I Underestimated You.

Dear Carolina,

I’m sorry for underestimating you.

See, when I came to Chapel Hill as a freshman, I wasn’t expecting to experience anything revolutionary. I’d done dual enrollment at Elon in high school and two summers abroad at a liberal arts university in Switzerland. Coming in with 46 credit hours, I thought I had a good handle on how to succeed in college. Go to class, read the book, do the homework, and it should all make sense. If not, there’s office hours or the internet.

And in a sense, I was right. It was a routine that served me well for all of my classes at UNC. Sure, there were a few classes that rocked my way of thinking and truly changed my perspective on a given subject matter. But for the most part, class was class.

What I failed to realize as a freshman is how much more Carolina demands of you than just coursework. Being smart doesn’t mean squat. Everyone’s smart. My peers that really stood out on campus did way more than just study – they were leaders of student organizations – some of them committing up to 30 hours a week for work that was unpaid and ungraded. They’re all passionate about some sort of social issue or service organization and commit time to helping those from Chapel Hill to China. They do research, work internships, and study abroad. And they still make time for a salsa dance or a capella organization that they do “just for fun.” And despite being perpetually slammed with classes and organizations, you’ll still see them regularly at the gym, at the bars on Thirsty Thursday, and tossing a Frisbee in the quad. And they still show up to class  looking impeccably put together.

These friends have been incredibly inspiring. But at the same time, they’ve spent the past four years absolutely wearing me out as I try to keep up. It’s never directly competitive – with different majors and different activities, it’s hard to make comparisons and determine who’s ahead. Instead, it’s more like expectations. You need to find something that you’re passionate about. You need to give back to your community and to those less fortunate. You need to live a well-rounded and balanced life and place value in your friendships. It’s the Carolina Way.

For me, this made for a huge learning curve. I didn’t know what I was passionate about or how I was going to make my mark at Carolina, much less recruit others to a cause, build a team, and manage execution as an organization. Yet I figured it out through my classmates. “How did you get involved in research?” “How much time are you putting into this?” “How do you hold peers in your organization accountable without being to bossy?” Essentially, I’ve spent the past four years badgering my friends with the same question: “How are you pulling all this off?” They’ve done amazing things. I wanted in on their secrets. I think that’s why I ended up working for Career Services; I wanted to make sure every ounce of effort they’ve put into their undergraduate experience is fully appreciated in their post-grad plans.

Looking back over the past four years of college, the most impactful lessons I’ve learned haven’t come from the classroom. All I remember from my freshman music class is that I skipped the entire month of February. And Western Civ? We talked about Caesar at some point. Instead, my biggest lessons have been learned in coffee shops, dining halls, and dorm rooms, over YoPo or on walks across campus. My fellow Tar Heels taught me how to appreciate diversity and how to look at differences in a constructive manner. They’ve shown me how to build momentum and get buy in behind a cause. They’ve taught how to most effectively show appreciation for great work and how to put my foot down if not, how to build someone’s confidence in themselves, and even how to do my own laundry. They’ve taught me about leadership, organization, communication, and drive. And most importantly, they’ve taught me how to live a balanced, fun, and fulfilling life. I’ve accomplished way more than I ever expected to in college, largely due to the friends of mine who have pushed me to do more.

So Carolina, I’m sorry I underestimated you. But at graduation today, know that I won’t take for granted my best teachers here at this university and that I’ll seek them out and thank them for making such a huge impression on my life over the past four years. And I’ll congratulate them on their graduation while I’m at it.

Thoughts on Amendment 1

I’ve spent the past few weeks trying not to write about Amendment 1. It brings up issues of politics and religion, both of which are fairly private topics to me. But after being couch-bound with mono for the past few weeks, it’s been impossible not to get wrapped up in the media coverage.

To start, I voted against the amendment for a number of reasons. Let’s just go ahead and skip over the effects for heterosexual couples in civil and domestic unions. We all know that’s not what Amendment 1 was really about. I voted against because don’t believe that building a loving family is a sin. Much of the scripture on this topic comes from books of old Jewish laws from the Old Testament, along with rules about properly selling your daughters into slavery and how to slaughter animals. But for argument’s sake, let’s pretend it is. Even still I couldn’t bring myself to support the amendment. I think it’s taking on a position as God’s special police force, in charge of regulating the behavior of others, as if I’ve earned some position of righteousness and enlightenment that entitles me how to teach others how to live. And I am not worthy or virtuous enough to tell others what Christianity is supposed to look like. I'm still trying to figure that out for myself.

And beyond that, I’m a strong proponent of the separation of church and state. I think it’s so easy to endorse ideas that coincide with our personal ideas of right and wrong without taking a step back and realizing that not all people share our ideas of morality. For example, I had the chance to indulge in a Sutton’s cheeseburger for lunch today, even though it’s not kosher and therefore sinful under Jewish Orthodox law. Therefore, I think it’s only proper that I return the favor of religious tolerance and acceptance. Forcing non-Christians to live by Christian ideologies has no additive impact on net salvation, but instead breeds frustration and resentment towards a church they might otherwise be open to exploring. And that’s why I voted against Amendment 1. Because I realize that North Carolina is full of people who are different from me – with different sexual orientation, different religion, different personal experiences that have formed and shaped who they are – and that all of these people deserve an equal chance at happiness – regardless of whether it makes other people uncomfortable – so long as no one’s hurting those around them in the process. 

So it’s easy to see that I was disappointed with the results on May 10. It was easy to want to join in the cheap-shot bandwagon of anti-Amendment 1 supporters; to want to join in on the discussion on the parallels of education levels with how counties voted. It’s easy to want to call that 60% of North Carolinians a bunch of uneducated, ignorant, judgmental haters and bigots. It’s even easy to be tempted to point fingers at other Christians for “not doing it right.” 

But I can’t. See, if my reasoning for opposing Amendment 1 comes from my hope that we can not only accept, but celebrate the value of diversity in our communities, it would be hypocritical not to value differences of political thought. Just because I don’t understand their motivations or agree with their opinions, it doesn’t make them wrong. And besides, resorting to hateful and condescending language only has a further polarizing effect on the issue; if someone opposes gay marriage, calling them stupid and hateful only creates more hostility. 

So what I’ve been struggling with most is how to respond in a way that pledges my support for the gay and lesbian individuals who have made invaluable contributions to my community and my life, while still respecting the thoughts and opinions of those in favor of the amendment. Saying nothing would be the most neutral option, yet it doesn’t seem sufficient. 

So instead I’ll share a quote from Zach Wahls, the Iowa teen who testified in opposition to a similar amendment, sharing his experience being raised by two moms. 

“After all, your family doesn’t derive its sense of worth from being told by the state, ‘You’re married, congratulations!’ The sense of family comes the commitment we make to each other to work through the hard times so we can enjoy the good ones. It comes from the love that binds us. That’s what makes a family.”

And just as the sense of family is so much larger than any sort of legal designation, so is the sense of love and the sense of community. Amendment 1 isn’t going to change gay individuals, their families, or their supporting communities. We’re a group of allies that is here to stay until equal rights are realized. We’re a group that’s growing, with roughly 50% of Americans supporting gay marriage, up from 27% just fifteen years ago. It’s not a community that you “have” to be a part of for my friendship or approval, but I sure am proud to be a part of it.