Turn and Face the Change

It’s been too long since my last post. But I’ve been busy! My girlfriend Elissa and I returned last week from a nine-day excursion to California. Along the way, we visited my parents, met up with a few of my old friends, toured some beautiful wineries and made a stop at my college alma mater, which I hadn’t visited since the turn of the millennium.

It was a trip full of people and places I’ve known for years, but I was seeing them now through different eyes as I introduced my Chicago girlfriend to many aspects of my former life on the West Coast. I think I subconsciously wanted to show Elissa everything the way it used to be -- exactly the way I remembered it. Inevitably, though, change abounded.

Upon arriving at my former college campus, the very small Pitzer College in Claremont, a place that will forever remain very near and dear to my heart, we immediately strode through the stone pillars of the ornate entry gate toward the location of my first-year dorm. My jaw nearly disconnected itself from my mouth when I realized that the empty field I was gazing upon was, in fact, all that remained of what once were my living quarters.

My initial reaction was sadness tinged with anger. How could they take this place that held so many memories for me and just tear it down like a meaningless pile of metal and concrete and then surround the lifeless plain of dirt and weeds with a temporary metal fence and just leave it there with no apologies?

With a year’s worth of dorm-room memories racing through my head amid a nostalgic confusion, I pushed on to show Elissa other locations throughout the tiny campus that had played significant roles in my experience there. As our tour continued, we came upon several completely new buildings that are now serving as dorms for current students, replacing the building I once called home.

Instead of the institutional white of the dorms from my era, I noticed that these architecturally unique structures were designed in soft earth tones. As it turns out, the new buildings were constructed as sustainable “green” dorms with features such as French doors leading from students’ rooms, organic gardens with sitting areas in the courtyard and solar panels and gardens on the roof.

Suddenly, I was reminded of Pitzer’s motto, Provida Futuri, which translates to Mindful of the Future. This phrase refers primarily to the ideal of preparing the school’s young students for meaningful futures in which they remain conscious of how their actions might affect the world around them.

While, as a former history major, I believe strongly that we must honor our past and embrace the lessons it has taught us, I believe just as strongly in embracing change and innovation and using those very lessons from the past to strive toward making things better now and in the future.

It bothers me to no end that human nature seems to lead us toward negative knee-jerk reactions to change of almost any kind. We get used to a certain structure, a way of doing things, and we become comfortable with it. When it changes, we often don’t take the time to gauge whether it might make things better in the long run. In the short run, it’s different, which means adjusting, whether it’s better or not. Comfortable trumps better nine times out of 10, and it truly bothers me.

Though that same nature is wired into my brain as it is in those of others, I’ve always tried to do my best to counteract it. I’ve embraced a couple of mottos of my own, which I often repeat to myself when I feel myself slipping into a “negative knee-jerk.” First: Change is Inevitable. Second: Change is Good.

Change is indeed inevitable. This one is clear. No matter how much you try to keep things the same, the world will change around you. Whether you like it or not, it’s going to happen. You’re better off making the most of it.

And no matter my initial reaction, I’ve found that change is indeed usually good. No, it’s not always good. But more times than not I’ve found that once I accept it, it turns out for the better. If you’re not changing, you’re not really living. And if you’re not busy living, you’re busy dying.

Comments

[Teresa Basich]

I think we're averse to change because it's a reminder that time is always passing and that we can never get it back. But, like you said, if we don't change we don't live. And that's no fun.

Great post! Hope you enjoyed the rest of your trip out here. :)

[Carol Hindin]

Two thumbs up ... way up!