Among my freshman-year friend group, I was one of very few whose housing selection placed me outside of Willets Hall, one of the primary dorms dedicated to housing freshmen. Nonetheless, the amount of time I spent within that building was substantial enough for me to have been affectionately dubbed an “honorary resident” by the Resident Assistant (RA). Despite the eight-minute walk between Willets and Danawell Hall, I managed to find myself reposed within the first floor lounge at least once a day. The openness of the space, somehow, provided the perfect environment for chance encounters as people walked between destinations and inevitable wound up swept up in hours of conversation. The topics of discussion varied as the individuals in the room shuffled, but often the recurring faces stuck around the longest: eager to engage in conversations of a nature deeply intimate, mind-numbingly absurd, or someplace in between. 

Game nights were frequent and often unplanned until roughly ten minutes beforehand. Sometimes, we would play a game like Wingspan or whatever else someone had picked up from McCabe that day. Other times, in the deeper hours of the night, we would play games like Hot Seats (where people question you for a full minute and your responses have to be entirely honest). In such instances, our vulnerability sparked connection. My friends are very artsy: lounge time often involved someone painting, someone creating paper sculptures, someone carving wood from the Crum, someone catching up on schoolwork, and the rest chatting or intermittently joining in with other activities. In those moments, conversation was able to flow endlessly as people indulged themselves in both craft and companionship. Amidst the myriad of genres encompassed by our conversations, it was the late-night talks that stuck with me the most. Between 9 and 11 PM, we would dip out in intervals to go on quick runs to Sci or Crumb Cafe. Then, once our sushi supply had run low, we would inevitably put in a Taco Bell order. From there, we would just work, talk, and allow the evening to float away. Those moments were so simple, but among some of my favorites in my time here at Swarthmore.

Often, the proximity of the lounge to the other social spaces within Willets allowed for an effective segway into new activities and interactions. The first-floor kitchen was only a few steps away and we, often propelled by a collective love for sweet treats, used it to create cakes, cookies, and (most commonly) chocolate covered strawberries, whenever the idea was proposed. Occasionally, there was a concert or event happening in Mephistos Lounge, so traveling music served as our lure to some of the most exciting events on campus. Even then, my most guilty pleasures actually came from the events that took place in the lounge. I became close friends with the floor’s Resident Assistant, Student Academic Mentor, and the rest of their group. I was incredibly devoted to attending their events for this very reason: tagging along for floor-wide painting nights, hot-chocolate bars, trips to the Barnes Foundation, Pastry Pants (a pastry shop in the town of Swarthmore), and a variety of other adventures for which the school covered the cost of participation. It was through these that I was able to grow so much closer to fellow freshmen and upperclassmen alike.

On the Swarthmore Fencing Team, the Sabre Squad often hosted “Sabre Family Nights,” and, despite being a foilist, I was invited to participate in an event they hosted in Willets 1st–game night–where we played One Night Ultimate Werewolf and indulged in boxes upon boxes of Dunkin’ Donuts. On another occasion, my friend’s birthday party was hosted within the lounge, so we were able to celebrate within a space that had become so meaningful to us over the past year. Reflecting upon my time as a freshman, I realize how much I am going to miss the “Coming to Willets 1st?” texts that flashed across my screen every day, prompting me to begin my journey over to our personal agora. In our path finding a place for connection, I believe this space was an entirely unexpected one, but the memories that it holds—the thousands of hours of conversation that took place between its walls, shall reside with it, and within me, forever.