Posted on Monday, 30 July 2001
It is a fact universally acknowledged that high school students are, on the whole, neither happy nor productive.
The years of angst and merciless peer pressure are relieved by the rite of passage commonly known as "Graduation," and the fortunate child is then ushered into the first phase of adult life-Freshman year of college.
"My dear," said Mr. Bennett to his daughter, "we are nearly there."
Elizabeth, who had been dozing in the passenger seat of the minivan, her head pressed against the window, came awake just in time to see the green sign on the side of the highway: "Fitzwilliam College, next right."
A shiver ran through her-whether of excitement or fear, she did not know.
Mr. Bennett took the turn indicated by the sign, and in another ten minutes, pulled into the parking lot of Fitzwilliam College, a small institution of higher learning in southern New Hampshire. Lizzie, never having seen the campus before, looked around. In the parking lot where they had pulled in, there were two buildings. One was yellow, the other gray. A driveway and green lawns led to a barn. Across the campus, a few other buildings were visible. It was a lot smaller than she had anticipated.
Parking the car in the sandy lot, father and daughter took a deep breath before getting out.
"Well, Lizzie, here you are," said Mr. Bennett levelly. He was not one to show emotion. Leaving his eldest daughter at college was very hard for him.
"Yes, here we are," repeated Lizzie, running a hand distractedly through her curly brown hair, trying vainly to repair the damage done by her nap on the road.
"There are some people in front of that building," commented Mr. Bennett. "Perhaps they can direct us to your dorm."
"Hello," one of the people in front of the gray building said cheerfully, as Mr. Bennett and Elizabeth approached. "You must be a new freshman. My name is Kelly Frazier, and I'm a proctor. Can I help you with anything?"
"Er-yes. I'm Lizzie Bennett."
"Pleased to meet you." Kelly shook her hand, and greeted Mr. Bennett as well.
"What we really need is directions to the dorm I'll be staying in."
"This is Longbourn House, the girls dorm," Kelly told Lizzie. The yellow building is Matlock Hall, for the guys. If you go right inside the doors here, there is a plan of the rooms. I believe that yours is on the top floor..."
"Thank you," said Lizzie, going inside.
In the small foyer, they found a bulletin board with the room listings. Lizzie's was, indeed, on the top floor.
"Lets go get your stuff," said Mr. Bennett.
"Whew!" Lizzie heaved a sigh of relief as she and her father put down the last of her belongings-a large green trunk-in the middle of the floor, and stood back to survey the room.
"Well, it could be smaller," said Mr. Bennett, skeptically.
Lizzie just stared. Her roommate had not arrived yet, but the small room already seemed to be filled to capacity. It was a narrow rectangular room on the top corner of the building. A bunk bed stood against one wall, with two bureaus stacked next to it. Two desks stood side by side on the opposite wall, under the window over looking the other dorm. The other window overlooked the parking lot, and the fourth wall was the closet. Actually, "closet" was rather a strong word. It was a bar with a shelf above it. There were also two bookshelves-one on the wall next to the front window, and the other sitting atop one of the desks.
"Well, Lizzie," said her father, trying to squelch the overwhelming desire to cart his daughter's belongings back down the stairs, pile into the car, and set off for home, shaking the dust of Fitzwilliam College from his feet forever. "Which bed would you like?"
"I'll take the bottom bunk," said Lizzie, who was feeling the same as her father.
They set to work, and soon, the room was looking a little better. One of the desks was under each window. Lizzie chose the one looking out onto the parking lot. One of the bureaus stayed next to the bed (since her roommate would need it to get up, in the absence of a ladder), and the other (Lizzie's) went on the wall opposite the bed. She put the bookshelves atop her bureau and began putting her things away.
"I am going to have a look around," commented Mr. Bennett. He was only getting in his daughter's way here, and he wanted to see the rest of this place where he was leaving her.
"OK, Dad. Come back here before Orientation. I think it's in an hour."
"See you soon." Mr. Bennett left the room.
Lizzie was startled by a knock on the door. Shoving her handful of underwear into the top drawer, she told the newcomer to enter.
Turning around, she saw a tall slender blond standing in the doorway and surveying the room and its occupant with a serene air.
"Hi, I'm Lizzie Bennett. Am I in the wrong room?"
The girl smiled, and came forward, extending her hand. "No, I am Jane Gardiner, you roommate."
"Pleased to meet you, Jane." If Lizzie had been nervous before, this beautiful girl's warm smile and friendly manner put her at ease.
"Well, we are lucky aren't we? Look at this palace!"
"You are being sarcastic, right?" asked Lizzie.
"Have you seen any of the other rooms, Lizzie?" asked her roommate.
"No...I just assumed that this was one of the smaller ones."
"Nope. This is as good as its gonna get. I am surprised that they put two freshmen in here. When I came to visit, the room I stayed in was a closet."
"This is a closet, too." This was the biggest room Fitzwilliam College had to offer? What have I gotten myself into, thought Lizzie.
" Well, I hope you don't mind the top bunk," she said apologetically. "I was stuck on the top for five years while I shared a room with my younger sisters. All of them roll."
Jane laughed. "Don't worry, I don't. You can have the bottom. I have never had to share a room with anyone. I have only one sibling, an older brother. How many do you have?"
"I am the oldest of four sisters."
"Oh, how nice! How old are they?"
"I'm the top, eighteen, then there is Mary, who is sixteen, and then Kitty and Lydia, fourteen year old twins. How old is your brother?"
"He is twenty one, a junior here, as a matter of fact."
"And you are a freshman?" This girl looked like she could be a senior-she was so pretty and self-assured... Lizzie on the other hand, felt about ten, scared out of her mind, and awkward to boot.
"Yes, I'm a freshman, but I worked last year. I'm nineteen."
"Oh."
"Well, my stuff is all out in the hallway..."
"I'll help you bring it in," Lizzie offered, "and then we can both work on making up the beds. I have had a lot of experience with bunks, and the best strategy is to have two people on the job."
Both girls set to work, and soon they were talking and laughing freely. She may not be that intimidating after all, thought Lizzie.
Posted on Thursday, 2 August 2001
Soon it was time for Orientation. Jane had come up to school with her brother and not her parents, so she walked over to the gray library with Lizzie and Mr. Bennett. The three of them sat near the front of the room and watched as the rest of the new students filed in with their parents, and in some cases, their entire families. Lizzie was relieved to note that she was not the only one who was nervous. Several of the other kids looked in worse shape than she. One of the girls was even holding her mother's hand. By four o'clock, the room was only half filled. There seemed to be about twenty five college aged people, and then their parents. Lizzie was beginning to realize just how small the school was. This is the freshman class? she thought.
Soon the door opened a final time, and the president and dean of the college came in. Dr. Carlisle walked up to the podium and greeted the students and their parents. He was an older man, perhaps in his sixties, balding, and clean-shaven. He seemed very nice. The word grandfatherly definitely came to mind. Next, the dean gave a speech. She was an interesting person. Dr. Long was wearing a long purple-was it a coat?-and some rather eccentric jewelry.
"I want to welcome you all to Fitzwilliam College," she began. "I am pleased to see such a large freshman class this year..." And then she started talking about some concept called communitas, and Lizzie's attention wandered. "And now, please join Dr. Carlisle and myself down stairs for some apple pie and time to meet one other."
Silently, the new students and families trouped down the main staircase of the library, though the foyer, and into another room. Mr. Bennett left Lizzie to get a piece of pie. She was too nervous to eat.
"I'll just wait here," she told him.
At the table in the middle of the room, Mr. Bennett was drawn into conversation with another parent. Lizzie was on her own. Looking around, she spotted Jane. Moving around the perimeter of the room, she made her way over to the only person she even slightly knew.
"Hi Lizzie!" Jane greeted her, turning from her companion. "This is Charles Bingley."
"Hello Charles. Where are you from?" Lizzie asked.
The boy smiled. He had a very engaging smile that lighted up his whole face. "I'm from Washington D.C. How about you?"
"New York," responded Lizzie with a smile of her own. He seemed nice, and quite taken with Jane. "Well, very nice to meet you. I think I am going to go mingle now," she excused herself.
"Bye Lizzie," said Jane, although she hardly seemed to notice her roommate's departure. She seemed quite taken with Charles herself.
Not knowing what else to do, Lizzie walked around the edge of the room, examining the books on the shelves. Although she was usually self-confident, the whole atmosphere of this place had caught her off guard and disgruntled her. As she glanced around, she noticed a tall young man standing by himself in a corner not far off, watching everyone with a somber look on his face. He was easily the handsomest-cute just didn't do him justice-guy she had ever seen. He had dark brown hair, slightly curly, a strong jaw, and penetrating dark eyes.
As she watched, Charles excused himself from Jane and came over to him. Lizzie was close enough to over hear their conversation.
"Come on, Darcy, stop being so reclusive!" he urged. "I hate watching you stand off by yourself. You look stupid. You ought to come and meet people."
Darcy replied rather coldly. "I don't think so. You know how much I hate talking to strangers. And in a place like this? I had much rather not."
"If I didn't know better, I would say you were shy, Darcy!" exclaimed Charles. "Don't be a snob. Everyone I have met seems really nice. And some of the girls are real cute..." he glanced over at Jane, and Lizzie wondered if he even realized that he had done it.
"You have been talking to the only pretty girl in the room," replied Darcy tersely, following Charles's gaze across the room to Jane.
"Oh," said Charles, realizing for the first time that he was staring. "She is the most beautiful creature I have ever seen! But there is her roommate, standing over there. She is quite pretty too, and I just met her. She seems really nice. Let me introduce you."
"Which do you mean?" asked Darcy, turning around and looking for a moment at Lizzie, till catching her eye, he withdrew his own coldly and said, "She is tolerable, I suppose, but not handsome enough to tempt me. I am not in the mood to talk to girls other people avoid. Go back to your new friend and enjoy her smiles. You are wasting your time with me."
With a shrug, Charles followed Darcy's advice. Lizzie was just staring, trying to decide whether or not to sit down and cry-was she really a girl everyone else avoided?-when she heard a voice.
Turning, she saw a girl with dark brown hair in a rather severe ponytail.
"I'm sorry, I was spacing out. Were you talking to me?"
"I know how you feel," the girl said with a smile. "This whole college thing can be a little overwhelming. I'm Charlotte Lucas."
"Lizzie Bennett."
"So, you are a freshman?"
"Is it that obvious?"
"Well, most people here are. Actually, my parents were talking to your father a few minutes ago."
Lizzie laughed. "Oh. You're not a freshman, are you?" Lizzie asked.
"No. I am a transfer student, sophomore, from Mansfield University."
"So, this place must be a big change for you in terms of size ..." Mansfield was one of the larger Universities on the East Coast.
"Yeah, but at least I won't be a nameless face in a crowd, or a number any more."
"No danger of that here. How many students are there in all? Seventy five?"
"More like eighty, I think. I love what Dr. Long was saying about Communitas in her lecture-she is one of the lit professors. What did you think?"
"Ummm, actually, I wasn't really paying attention," Lizzie admitted, with a sheepish smile.
"Well, they are really big on that here--communitas, not zoning out! When I came to visit, I remember hearing the term several times. It's a neat idea-leaving the organized world of structure and entering into the world of Communitas as a rite of passage..."
Lizzie listened as Charlotte went over what Dr. Long had covered in her introductory speech, and then the conversation turned to more general matters. The pleasant girl put Lizzie back at ease. That horrid Darcy can boil his head for all I care, she thought.
Soon it was time for Mr. Bennett to leave. He had a long drive ahead of him, and he hoped to cover a good distance that evening. He kissed his daughter goodbye. How he would miss her!
"Goodbye, Dad," she said, a little tremulously.
"Goodbye, my dear," he said hugging her again. Then in a mock serious voice he lamented, "I shall not hear two words of sense spoken together until Thanksgiving!" They both laughed. Mrs. Bennett, Lizzie's mother, was not renowned for her sense, and the younger Bennett girls could be downright silly. "You will be very much missed my dear."
Mr. Bennett got into his car and drove out of the parking lot. Lizzie was on her own.