Yesterday morning, my co-Sunday School teacher, Ben, and I facilitated a discussion on college for our Sunday School class that was primarily led by three church members home from college. It was a great conversation-relaxed, honest, funny, thoughtful-and I wish I could say the same for every time Ben and I get our God on. But we were talking about something about which they all care, something they’ll be doing in the near future, so almost everyone was engaged.
Later that afternoon, the older two and I went to watch the Furman baseball team play Wofford while #3 stayed with Mimi and Bobo. It was a beautiful, sunny Sunday, and after our conversation at church, I found myself reminiscing about the days I lived on the baseball side of Ehringhaus dorm on south campus at UNC, where Sunday afternoons would find my suite mates and I sitting out on the 6th floor balcony, watching baseball from a distance, “studying”.
Spring always brings memories of college, of opportunity, promise, optimism, and Tar Heel pride. As I sat there yesterday morning and talked to my students about moderation, about making wise choices, I thought of my own extreme lack of judgement in college-I threw moderation out the window in a major way, instead wanting to live big, to experience all of it, to not miss a minute of what this great university and its people have to offer.
I studied hard, I played hard, I stayed up all night more than I can remember writing papers, I stayed up all night dancing. I figured I could sleep later, so I kept the pedal pushed to the floor for a solid four years. My eyes were open to all of it- zealots, feminists, evangelicals, musicians, druggies, academics, drop-outs, frat boys, international students, athletes, hippies, socialists, atheists, Wiccans, philosophers. And with the exception of the D I made in math first semester, (and a few other instances I’d rather not mention here), I don’t regret a second of it, I don’t regret a moment that I spent there listening, learning, living.
It’s difficult to explain the pride I feel as a member of the UNC community, and as a native of North Carolina. So it’s with some trepidation, but mostly with great hope, that my fingers are crossed tomorrow, May 8th, when my great state has the opportunity to vote against Amendment One. I don’t often get political here, and I don’t plan on getting too deep today, especially on a blog where I’m usually hocking 3 Marthas and Angel Dear Lovies. But I will say that I’m hoping that North Carolina and its inhabitants make me proud, that I can stand up tomorrow with Tar Heels and say that we stand for love, that we stand for family in whatever form that may take, that we believe all people have rights.
Last week I woke up a little panicky, thinking I’d missed the vote. Ironically, of course, since I now live in South Carolina, I can’t vote. I wish I could vote no to Amendment One, and I hope that at the end of the day tomorrow, I’ll still have my Tar Heel pride and optimism intact, that love will win.
Hope everyone had a GREAT weekend and as always, thanks for stopping in!