Every day, I’m reminded why I fell in love with Hopkins.
The buildings are pretty, the research opportunities are abundant, and the people here are some of the best I’ve ever met.
Coincidentally, every day I am also reminded of when I fell in love with Hopkins, specifically when I walk past a particular building on campus.
I visited this school for the first time on 11/11/11. Yes, on this lucky day, I was lucky enough to fall in love with the school I would ultimately call home, but this day was also memorable for other reasons.
Hopkins was the first of many college tours. As a high school junior eager to look into the wonderful world of college, I was excited to grab my mom and my grandmother and fly down to Baltimore for the weekend.
The morning of November 11th began as any other. We got up, got dressed, enjoyed a delectable cinnamon roll in the lobby of our hotel, and made our way to Mason Hall for the information session.
We were part of an especially large group, so before the festivities got underway, we were relocated to the Shriver Auditorium, which from here on out will be referred to as “The Scene of the Crime.”
Wow! Research! Performance Groups! Learning! No core curriculum!
Coming out of the information session, I was already sold on the place. Though as I made my way down the marble steps of Shriver Hall, throwing ‘bows to get a good tour guide, I heard something behind me and turned around.
What I saw was my grandmother on the ground, obviously in pain.
You see, I’m convinced that my grandmother’s bones are actually made of paper, rather than calcified cartilage. I flashed back to that time in third grade when she slipped and shattered her wrist walking out of the American Girl Place in New York City, and knew that something had to have been broken.
I wanted to stay and help, but at this point I was only a pre-pre Med and probably would have added to the chaos.
As the HERO members arrived, my mom urged me to go on the campus tour, while she stayed with my grandmother, saying that she would meet up with me afterward.
I ran after one of the tour groups who was just leaving, and while everyone else probably thought I was insane due to the tears in my eyes, I managed to fall even further in love with the campus and the Hopkins community.
My grandmother ended up breaking her hip on that fateful day. But she recovered and was the lucky recipient of a JHU T-shirt the next Christmas, following my ED acceptance.
Now every time I walk past Shriver, I can’t help but think about the time when I quite literally fell head-over-heels (hip?) for Hopkins.