“You got this… You got this…” I mumbled to myself as I got in my Xterra, a "Clear Mind" Kombucha in hand. For a moment, I sat in my hot vehicle, giving myself some time to relax and stop shaking briefly before turning the keys and getting on my way. I’d given myself almost an hour to drive to campus and get to class, and I knew almost exactly where I was going. I was just nervous. So nervous, in fact, that I couldn’t stop shivering. 

It took almost every ounce of strength I had to stop shaking enough to get the Xterra started and moving. 

I drove through my neighborhood extra slowly, giving myself even more time to try to relax and wave at the neighbors (who knew I was going to college for the first time and were cheering me on as I passed by). But, I couldn’t. I was wild-eyed, shaking, and every part of me was screaming at me to turn around and hide under my bed covers. Yet, I pressed on, my heart beat rapidly increasing as I got closer and closer to my college campus. 

I couldn’t (and still quite can’t) believe I was actually doing it. Against all of the odds, I was going to college.

Well, I wasn’t just going to college. I was majoring in science and starting off strong with a five credit astronomy lab course. Holy shit! What on God’s green earth was I thinking!? Looking back to when I signed up for the course, I probably wasn’t. 

Not even an hour earlier, my dad had taken me out to an early lunch at Red Lobster. I was almost too nervous to eat, but ordered a quick, cheap meal of grilled fish anyway. My dad sat across from me, watching me twitch and shiver from anxiety when he remarked, “My God, kid. Just watching you makes me nervous! Chill the fuck out.”

“Well, I’m shittin’ bricks!” I fired back, smirking. 

“Why? You’re taking only one class at community college. It’s not like anyone’s gonna bite your head off when you get there, and as long as you are diligent- which you are- you will stay on top of things and do just fine. Trust me!” 

“How do you know that, dad?” I asked as I took a sip of my caffeinated soda (bad idea, by the way). 

“Cuz I went to college.” He laughed, “Half the time I was hungover, too. And I still got my degree with flying colors! Truth is, you’re more than prepared and ready for college. You’ve got the brains, the motivation, the street-smarts, the discipline. You're more than ready for college now, especially after the last year and a half. You’ll be just fine!"

"But-"

"Maya."

"But-"

"Maya! You. Will. Be. Just. Fine. Trust me. You are not an idiot. You are not nearly as bad at making friends and talking to people as you think. Your professor won't bite your head off. You will do great in college. Remember; C's get degrees, and nobody gives a shit about what you are doing at college. You are going to college for the same reason we go to the museum and read the plaques at the exhibits. It's for you and you alone. If you hate it, that's fine. Drop out. Find something else to do. You don't need college to succeed at a lot of things. But, I don't think you'll hate it and drop out. In fact, I bet you're gonna feel right at home in a few weeks. Just relax..."

My dad had a point, but I was still not convinced. Instead, my anxiety had a death-grip around me, convincing me that I was destined to fail, and everyone would pick up on my stupidity and insecurity and rip on me for that. Also, what the hell was I thinking going into Astronomy? I knew almost nothing about it, except for that it probably involved a lot of math and abstract thinking, with weekly existential crises of course. 

As far as I was aware, I wasn’t good at math or physics or coming up with hypotheses, or any of that smart people stuff. I was no Albert Einstein or Stephen Hawking (quite the opposite, actually). Plus, it gave me anxiety to think about just how infinitesimally puny I was compared to the universe. And the knowledge that the universe is finite and is expanding into something at a faster and faster rate, just didn’t compute in my gnat-sized brain. 

Clearly, by majoring in science and taking a hefty Astronomy course, I was making a huge mistake. My dumbassery would show itself off like a peacock fanning his tail feathers. And, everyone would laugh at me till I dropped out, and my disappointed parents would disown me, and I would become homeless and die alone behind a dumpster, drenched in my own piss. 

However, it was too late to back out. Almost as soon as Dad dropped me off at home after lunch, I was back on the road and headed to college, accompanied by my anxiety, self-hate, and a lot of dread and terror. The only thing keeping me from turning my truck around was my half-assed “you got this!” mantra I repeated to myself over and over again. 

As I drove, my eyes occasionally scanned my surroundings, especially when I passed by scenes of nature. I wondered what the hell I was doing going to college, when I was probably much better off in a kayak on the lake catching bass, or hiking in the valley with my deer friends. I was (and am) a redneck. I was driving to college in my 4X4, a gator paw flipping the bird strung up on the rear-view mirror, a sheepskin rug in the trunk for me to sit on when it got cold. And, of course, I was dressed in cowboy boots, jeans with paint splattered on them, a camo hoodie, and a camo hat with a hilariously stupid "NO STEP ON SNEK" patch stuck to it. Rednecks didn’t belong in college alongside all of those super smart, well-dressed students and pointy-headed professors. What the hell was I doing going there?!

Behind me, a lifted Jeep Cherokee tailgated my slow ass as I turned onto the highway less than a mile from campus. Every few seconds, I’d glance up to check out that badass toy driving behind me. Even cooler, a woman around my age was driving it, who was also wearing a hunting camo hat. As soon as I could, I merged into the right lane to give her room to pass. Only, she followed me into the right lane. Then, when I flicked my blinker on to head into the college parking lot, so did she. As I turned into campus and nearly passed out when I saw how busy the campus was, not only did that lifted Jeep Cherokee follow me in, but I noticed many more badass off-road toys parked in the college parking lots.  

Perhaps, I thought, redneck, outdoorsy types belonged at college after all!

Still, I started to shake violently as ever. I felt nauseous and woozy. There were so many people running around like chickens with their heads cut off! Campus police were stationed at the entrances of each parking lot, guiding students in or letting them know that the lot was full. After passing by a couple full parking lots, I finally found a cop beckoning me into one of the largest parking lots on campus (which was almost completely full too).

I felt worse the longer I spent crawling up and down the rows of cars in search of a parking space (even with the same Jeep Cherokee following close behind me, reassuring me that I did, in fact, belong). Just when I thought my anxiety-induced migraine was about to spread to my eyes and make me go blind (or at the very least, puke out the window directly in front of a nearby pack of students), I found a parking space I could just barely fit into. 

Shakily, I took a swig of Kombucha, then popped a strip of spearmint gum into my mouth while I sat in my Xterra. Moments passed by as I allowed the sweet yet sharp taste of spearmint to coat my tongue and throat, and its sweet scent to permeate my breathing space, all while I watched more and more students pass by my rear-view mirrors and disappear into the growing crowd of students. I knew I'd have to leave the safety of my truck soon if I wanted to have plenty of time to get to class, but I was scared. Terrified even.

I contemplated wearing one of my N95's with a surgical mask over it to protect myself from the virus. Then, I remembered that I was fully vaccinated, and the risks covid once posed to me were next to nothing, no matter how many plague rats I came into contact with. Plus, I was at college, not some rural truck stop in the middle of Wyoming where I was glared at for wearing a simple surgical mask to purchase a bag of jerky. Everyone at college was required to wear a mask, and most people were probably vaccinated as well. 

Yet, I was very scared. Not only would I be fighting through a massive and growing crowd of people after spending almost two years in isolation due to covid, but my social anxiety was through the roof. I wasn't ready to meet new people like that. But, I remembered that most of those in that crowd of people were probably just as socially anxious as I was. Since everyone had been in isolation for so long, we were all pretty damn feral, and social mistakes were expected and easily forgiven. 

Finally, I'd mustered up just enough courage to throw on a simple KN95 mask, step out of my vehicle, toss my backpack over my shoulder, and venture over to the crowd of students standing in the shadow of the nuclear fallout shelter- er I mean- Arapahoe Community College. But, not before I glanced over my shoulder one last time at my blue Xterra, which would be patiently waiting for me to return in just over a couple hours. 

Inside the main building, there were a lot less people than there were milling about outside, allowing me to slightly relax. My class was meeting on the third floor of the building, and was far away from most of the commotion on the main floor. I took a moment to check the time; twenty minutes left before class started. There was plenty of time for me to explore my surroundings and ensure I had everything I needed to be successful that day. 

I began to wander around the third floor, paying special attention to the plaques on the walls and the collections of cool stuff kept in glass display cases throughout the third floor, treating it like a trip to the Nature and Science museum in Denver. In the hallways, I passed by numerous classrooms, some dark and empty, others packed full of students deeply focused on their studies and lectures. Few people walked the halls with me. But each person that passed me, whether it was a fellow student or a professor, seemed to be on a mission. Me? I was just plodding along, getting as oriented and grounded as possible before class started, sticking out like a sore thumb in my "NO STEP ON SNEK" hat, camo hoodie, paint-stained jeans, and well-worn American flag cowboy boots. 

With about five minutes left till 1:00 PM, I made my way over to my classroom, only to turn a corner and be greeted by a hallway packed full of students, many of whom were taking the same class as me. Not wanting to breathe in anyone else's air, I waited out in the main lobby of the third floor, keeping an eye on the students in the hallway. When they began to filter into class, I would follow them, though at a relatively safe distance. 

I stood staring at the growing gathering of students in the hallway, taking notice of the incredible diversity among them. There seemed to be people both younger and older than me, and everyone in between. There were people of all races and ethnicities. There were people with obvious (though not debilitating) disabilities. A few students had brightly colored hair. A few more had tattoos and piercings of all kinds. No two people dressed in the same style. Some people were dressed like they were going to a formal event. Others were dressed more like me (barely out of their pajamas). Some people wore their interests and political views quite literally on their sleeves. Others were much more neutral. I think I even saw a couple camo hoodies here and there. 

I felt just a little more comforted by just how many different people were just in that hallway alone. Again, I felt a little more assured that I really, truly belonged. Perhaps, my family and friends were right after all. 

Suddenly, the crowd of students began to move. Some entered the classroom I'd be going into. Others filtered into other nearby classrooms. I took in one last deep breath, pulled my mask down to spit my gum into a nearby trashcan, raised back up to my full height and stepped towards my classroom as outwardly confidently as possible. "This is it..." I thought as I strutted closer and closer towards the classroom, "I'm officially a college student... Oh. My. God..." 

Cautiously, I prowled into the classroom on the hunt for a suitable seat. I tried to remember what my buddies in Writer’s told me about the unwritten rules of college seating. First row was for the people who were ready to learn and were not afraid of the professor. Second row was for those who were ready to learn and meet new people. Third row and beyond was for the more laid back and social students. 

But I didn’t seem to fit into any of those categories, so where was I to sit? It wasn’t like I had an entire class hall of three hundred seats to choose from. It was a small classroom, with four seats per row of tables and five rows. I was too afraid to sit up front. I was also too nervous to sit in the center. And I wasn’t social enough to sit in any of the back rows. 

After a minor silent freakout, I chose the last available seat at the very end of the first row. I was still scared of my professor, but at least at the end, I would be left alone. Right? I got settled and seated with my laptop, notebook, and a handful of colorful pens on the table in front of me, just in time to see the professor stroll into the classroom, quietly closing the door behind her. 

"Man, you guys are so quiet!" she remarked as she adjusted her glasses. Indeed, the room had been dead silent the entire time. Everyone seemed just as scared shitless and clueless as I was. 

"Well..." she continued as she began to write some introductory notes on the white board with a blue marker, "That'll change soon enough. I understand that we're all a little more on the feral side thanks to current events, so we're gonna take it just one day at a time. And, within a few weeks,  I hope everyone will be a socialite again. Agree?"

Everyone nodded silently. A few nervously chuckled. 

"Great!" the professor laughed clapping her hands together, "Let's begin then."

The feelings of tension and anxiety began to dissipate as the professor introduced herself and began to go over the syllabus for the semester. It was clear, both from her background and the way she was going over the syllabus, that she'd been a professor for a very long time. She was what I'd call a "master teacher", especially since she made something as boring as a syllabus almost as fun as a birthday party. Within the first hour of the class, everyone (including myself) had relaxed enough to not only talk to the professor, but also talk among ourselves about our lives and interests. 

Somehow, the professor knew how to turn certain things in the syllabus into hilarious memes that had us howling with laughter. Other times, when the lecture got a little dull, she'd have us take little "brain breaks" where we'd watch a funny Youtube video or she'd share another funny story. By the time we'd managed to go over the entire syllabus (which took over an hour but honestly felt like it only took ten minutes), I was shocked by just how much fun I was having. I was even more surprised by how much I'd relaxed. 

After we went over the syllabus, the professor decided to split the class into two equal groups, then gave each group a deck of astronomy cards. 

"Alrighty, class!" she began, "Without using the internet or your textbooks, I want you guys to put these cards in order from oldest event to newest event in ten minutes. When the ten minutes are up, I will have two people from each group come up and fight each other to the death over whose more right. Sound like fun?"

Of course, everyone in the room began to heckle like the bloodthirsty hyenas we were until each group had their cards spread out on their tables. Then, we got to work discussing the cards and where we thought they'd go, even though none of us (at least in my group) knew much more than when the earth formed and when the first man stepped foot on the moon.