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Email ThisI recently spent 10 days in Greece as part of the University of Florida’s inaugural (I love being a trendsetter) young alumni trip. (That’s not my group in the photo, so don’t bother trying to spot me. You can see my photos here, though.)
Along with 35 other alumni (or human Gators) under the age of 35, I climbed the Acropolis in Athens, walked the maze-like streets of Mykonos, and rode a donkey to the top of Santorini. I probably did more eating than exploring, consuming gelato, souvlaki, and baklava daily (often within the same half hour).
My three years post-college have been both wonderful and trying (really, really trying at times). I’ve thought longingly about that contained, 4-year experience when there were pathways to choose from (I didn’t have to create one by myself), a collection of people to build a community from (not searching for new friends in a big city), professors to guide me (not supervisors too busy to care about my career), and seasonal breaks (not vacation days depleted by sniffling and sneezing).
But college is over (big gulp), and now I’m an alumnus. What does that mean, though, beyond listing your university on a resume, going back for major football games (I never do), or sleeping in an old college t-shirt? Are there benefits to being an alumnus or is all of the college glory limited to your years as an undergrad?
It can mean different things to different alumni, and the benefits are there if you’re willing to embrace your non-credit seeking role. For me, being an alumnus meant joining the DC Gator Club when I moved to the area and playing kickball on the National Mall with the Kickin’ Gators team. My weekly kickball games added regularity to the beginning of a social life that felt random and unstable, and while I wasn’t a huge fan (oh sports lingo) of everyone on the team, there were a few people who I really enjoyed spending time with.
Most recently, being an alumnus has taught me some overarching lessons that hold true in the land of “Opa!” (where I only heard it uttered once…sheesh) and back home.
1. Unity builds community – Before boarding the plane to Athens, I was at a kiosk, leaning over someone’s luggage to reach a bag of trail mix (my all-time weakness). The owner of the luggage jokingly said, “Hey, what are you doing with my suitcase?” I looked down at his luggage and saw a Gators patch sewn into the top. So, I looked up and said, “Sorry about that, but I’m a Gator, too.”
The majority of the group wore Gators t-shirts everyday. (Not me, though, as I try to assimilate when traveling and hope locals will speak to me in the native language.) Our orange-and-blue-wearing group was approached a few times by people who’d ask, “What’s with all the Gators stuff?” We’d tell them about our trip and they’d reveal that they were Gators, too. A “Go Gators” was shared and all of us were left with that it’s-a-small-world feeling (we’re Floridians and we’ve been on that ride at Magic Kingdom at least 2,863 times).
Networks and affiliations can make a difference casually, like when a shared laugh with someone eases your anxiety before a long flight, and professionally; you never know if the person interviewing you for a job also knows how to do the Gator chomp (i.e. is an alumnus of your university).
2. Your past is evocative – I’ve assimilated well as a Washingtonian, so much so that I feel more at home in DC (where I’ve lived for 2 ½ years) than I do when I go back to Florida (where I lived for 22 years) for visits. I think my personality is more “Northern” (even though I curse my way through winter).
But during the trip, as we spoke about hometowns like Ft. Lauderdale and a shared patriotism for Publix (the greatest supermarket ever), I had a reaction reminiscent of the physical effect of déjà vu, where this funny feeling passes over your whole body for just a few seconds. Even though some situations and places are preferred, others are innate and embedded deep inside of you. It’s worth paying attention to these old identity “aftershocks,” especially if you’re like me and trying to figure out your foundational likes and dislikes before making the next move (professionally or geographically).
In another sense, and in line with the “slash” effect, I can be a Floridian by birth/Washingtonian by choice/Greek by palate and not have to limit myself to one geographic identity. The openness to multiple zip-code-defined identities helped me relate to people on the trip who I didn’t think I would share much in common with. If we were seated across from each other at a group dinner, growing up in Florida was always conversation material to fall back on.
3. Relationships blossom over details - On the final night of the trip, everyone hung out on the rooftop of our hotel which had an unbelievable view of the Parthenon illuminated (sort of reminded me of the old Indiana Jones show at Universal Studios. Again, the effect of growing up in Florida.)
We all started talking about our favorite restaurants in Gainesville (where UF is located) – Satchel’s, Leonardo’s, Tijuana Flats, Pizza by the Slice. What’s funny is that some of us were probably in those restaurants unknowingly at the same time, but it would take a trip to Greece for us to finally meet. We got excited talking about our food memories, similar to how I’ve seen people react when talking about a memorable football game (but not me, no no). It was as if the verbal resurrection of our old favorite restaurants brought the taste of college life back to us, even if it was fleeting. As a foodie, I wish we had this conversation earlier in the trip because I would have seen potential for bonding with certain people based on their food choices and food passion.
4. The present can reshape your past – I learned this when I did the 2-day, 39-mile Avon Walk for Breast Cancer in honor of my grandma this past May. She passed away when I was five, but as I crossed the finish line – one day before the 19th anniversary of her death – I created a new memory in our relationship. I engaged with her as the adult she didn’t get to see me become.
Similarly, my participation in UF’s young alumni trip has affected how I remember college because it adds a new dimension to a former experience. It’s also confirmed for me that wherever I may go in the future, it’s worth looking up the local Gator alumni group and inviting the possibility of revising the memory of my college experience one more time.
Oh, and if you’ve never had dolmitas (grape leaves) in the a.m., you haven’t lived.
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Jackie,
Thanks for reminding me to go sign up for my school’s local alumni club. I’m kind of anticipating that most of the people there will have graduated before I was born, but it’s worth a shot.
Oh yea, and Publix is awesome. Of course, when I first moved to Florida I thought it was pronounced “Pube-licks” which didn’t exactly psych me up for buying food there.
Great, thoughtful post!
As an undergrad I really didn’t think about how I’d be tied to alumni from my college after I graduated. But it really is a great network.
From what I’ve observed (especially in D.C.) people who went to large public universities, like UF, definitely have an advantage in the alumni relations department. Obviously there is a bigger pool of alums from public universities in big cities and public schools generally seem to be more organized about getting their alums together.
Of course, there are a bunch of private universities that have great alumni relations operations, but this is just generally what I have observed.
@ Jaclyn
I definitely agree with you. Alumni networks never factored into my choice of college. I went to a tiny women’s college in Northeast Georgia. There’s an active alumni community in the Atlanta area, which is great, but if I were to move to a different area of the country, I probably would never meet anyone who has heard of, let alone attended, my university. It’s a shame, because that common connection can be so useful in so many situations.
Interesting thought - I wonder if this shared sense of unity has to do more with a famous football team than the college. For example, you all consider yourself “Gators” which is the name of the athletic teams, but doesn’t technically apply to the academic side of the university.
I admit that I have never much identified with my alma mater. I went to UNT (university of North Texas) back when it was NTSU (North Texas State University). Back then it was known as a commuter school, because of its close proximity to Dallas and Fort Worth. The city where the college was located (Denton) had remarkably few things for college students to do, so the campus pretty much cleared out after 5 on weekdays, and completely on weekends, when everyone headed back to their apartments or homes in the big cities.
UNT is also nationally renowned for its music program, particularly the jazz program. Unfortunately, this doesn’t hold as much cache’ as a nationally known athletic program. The football team (Eagles) wasn’t in any of the big conferences, and wasn’t very good. The most attention the football field got was in 1992, when they filmed the forgettable movie “Necessary Roughness” there, with actor Scott Bakula.
What I do identify with, is the computer science department of the school. As a Computer Science major, I feel that I was extremely well prepared for the business world as a programmer. I even keep a textbook from one of my classes, written by the professor, at my desk as a reference (”COBOL for the 80’s” by J. Wayne Spence). It’s old but still occasionally useful. When I donate any money, I make sure it goes only to the Computer Science department.
Is it just a small number of sports fans that identify with their old alma mater out there? Or are the majority like me, who went to school there, but don’t really consider myself an alumnus?
@Scott
I think being an alumnus is self-defined; it can mean something or nothing to you, and it can be built upon something huge or minor. I’d think that your lasting connection via a feeling of gratitude and donating money (which is really admirable) to the Computer Science department could make you feel like an alumni, but if you’re not moved to feel that way, then so be it.
Yes, a renowned football team is a common grip for people to cling to long after they graduate, but I’m someone who went to two football games in four years and felt a surge of inner happiness when both games were rained out and I got to leave early. For many of the other games, I’d escape to Orlando for the day because I was annoyed at how the population of Gainesville would triple, restaurants had several hour long waits to be seated, and everyone was excited (or belligerent) about something (football) that was meaningless to me.
My alumni feelings don’t stem from football pride, but instead derive from general college memories with friends, lasting relationships with professors, my study abroad experience, and longings (even 3 years later) for the mom-n-pop style restaurants I frequented – all of which I associate with being a Gator/UF grad, whatever you want to call it.
OH IJUST LOVE THE STORY.
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