This is an open letter to the residents of the glorious campuses of Upper and Newton. The word glorious is used loosely for Newton campus. I would like to first of all welcome you to the territory of Chestnut Trill, as well as give you a virtual tranquilizer and urge you to momentarily calm the heck down. You are just a fetus here on campus.

The hype and excitement revolving around the arrival on campus, and the jitters of the first week of school are enough to make the most studly of high schoolers quite insecure. All you sports captains, student council presidents, valedictorians, homecoming kings/queens, and certifiable studs are knocked down a few notches. You’re thrown into a pool of 2300 other freshman (most of which are smokeshows) who exceeded just as much as you (or possibly more) in high school, and you’re trying to figure out how to climb the social ladders of ~The Heights~ as well. Guess what: that is okay. Although, you don’t have to build an empire in a week. People you meet the first week may just become a phone contact that occupies a slice of unused real estate that you stumble across while procrastinating for studying for finals three and a half months later. However, I met one of my best friends at the Gilette Stadium football game vs. Umass last fall, and another the second day in Conte Forum at the welcoming of the class of 2018. Some friendships last, and some don’t; don’t take it personally.

Along with that: join a freaking club. BC students are the most hyper-involved college students I think I have ever met. Hop on the bandwagon (I’m looking at you freshman boys), and get rejected from some clubs (or a lot like myself), then kill it in another club. In case you are still confused that you go to BU or another greek system school: you don’t. Also, congrats that you don’t go to BU. The closest thing you’ll get to a fraternity is the Keyes basement, and the closest thing you’ll get to a sorority is Kappa Kostka Hall.

So guess what: you don’t have to get a deep squad upon your arrival to Chestnut Trill, and I pray you do not start calling your loose group of 8 friends your 8-man, because Lord knows the things that will happen between now and housing week. Spoiler alert: people will be crying in Mac.


Go meet friends in the laundry room (it takes guts but it’s possible), and go to the lame hall events, then ditch with your new friends you made there. Go to a mod and get kicked out, because “John?” is not an acceptable answer to the age-old question: “Who do you know here?”. Freshman year is for messing tf up, and learning more about yourself as you find friends that bring out the best in you and your late night escapades. But those friends might not come for a bit. Chill out.

So there’s some wisdom dropped on you. Also important: go follow @MikeatMac on twitter for some absolute FIRE pics of the assortment of delicacies on McElroy Commons’ third floor.

And always remember: every day’s a great day to be an eagle, obviously.

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