Two years... really?

There are places I'll remember
All my life though some have changed
Some forever not for better
Some have gone and some remain
All these places have their moments
With lovers and friends I still can recall
Some are dead and some are living
In my life I've loved them all

-Beatles, "In My Life"

Wow. It has been almost two years since I was last in the building that I "lived" in for five long, trying years of college. The College of Architecture at UNC Charlotte, the Storrs building, was "home" for 5 school years. I went back today to try to close that chapter of my life; I have piles of modeling and drafting supplies just sitting in the basement that must find a new home. Tonight was the night I chose to go list those items on any wall space I could find.

I walked in and a rush of emotions overtook me. I didn't expect to be so emotional walking in. I was ok until I walked upstairs and saw my old studio bay, right by the stairwell. It was a little amusing, projects two years later don't look all that different from what we were pushed toward in my final years of schooling. Slowly I walked around, occasionally stopping to post my little flyers. I saw the offices of professors I really enjoyed and couldn't help but smile, but cringed inside when I saw the doors of those I despised. I paused for a minute by the elevator in front of the library, overlooking the salon that I had walked through thousands of times.

Here's my thing. I was far from the typical architecture student. Heaven forbid a student have to work in order to stay in school and avoid even more debt than what was already quickly accruing from tuition alone (out of state tuition too!). Strike one against me. Heaven forbid an architecture student be involved outside of the beloved CoA. Honors program, an attempt at a Spanish minor, who cares? I did, at least for awhile. Make that strike two. Heaven forbid a student have an interest in single family homes instead of large commercial projects. Well hmm. Looks like that's strike three.

Sometimes I wonder if I missed my "calling" for college and should've gone into engineering instead. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed some of my college learning experience, mainly my semester in Paul Clark's studio where we had to design a single family home... but for the most part, it really takes an effort to think of those good memories. The bad far outweigh the good. I remember being so upset that I couldn't go on the second day of critiques and had to go on the first day, the day after I returned from my dad's wedding. There were two days of crits and my professor refused to switch me. That same semester I stayed up for 67 hours finishing my final project. How is that healthy??! I'd love for someone to explain that to me.

The long days, the sleepless nights, and that was just for studio. Don't forget that there were another 10-13 credit hours on top of that that had to be kept up with. It's amazing that any of us survived those five years. Granted, several of us had major run-ins with exacto knives along the way, but thankfully that was the worst of it. The thing that always puzzled me was that the professors never seemed to care how long you'd been up, how much effort you'd put into your project, or what else was going on in your life. We saw these people for 9+ contact hours a week. The school shuts down for the new chancellor? HA. Not the CoA. They live by their own rules, to hell with everyone else. No wonder that school has such a reputation around campus. They don't care about other departments, so why should others care about them?

I do have to say that the CoA has brought me to a point where I do enjoy my job. Without what I learned in that school, I wouldn't have the job I do today. No matter how many bitter feelings I have toward the architecture school, it did do me some good. In typical "me" fashion, I was the anti-architecture student, if there ever was one. I worked, on average, 35-40 hours between my two jobs during the week, kept trying to keep up with a minor and the Honors program, and *gasp* was able to build a strong foundation with a man who is now my husband. It can be done, but I won't say there weren't thousands of tears shed.

Today was hard for me. It was hard to go back to that building. I never in a million years thought that it would be that emotional. As I walked back to the car, a couple tears did fall. I will admit that. The rush of emotions completely engulfed me. Like I told C, it's sad how the good memories are far outweighed by the bad. I have to really think about the good ones. I don't think it should be that way.


John Lennon gets it right again. The places of our past are either good or bad, some are gone, some are still there. Each place forms who we are today, forming a moment in our life. Maybe deep down I have a love for my memories at the CoA, but I still have to search for that love.