Nostalgia... in Red and Blue
I got into college kind of accidentally.
Well, not into college, per se, but into my college. You see, the application had to be in first, long before the others, so I'd be eligible for some financial aid... and by the time the other applications were due, I'd already gotten my acceptance letter from RIT. It wasn't my first choice school--I didn't have a first choice school. Like most of my life, I was kind of playing it by ear.
As has usually been the case, thing turned out wonderfully.
After getting accepted (which means I had already picked out a major), the first thing to do was decide where I was going to live. When I had visited the campus the first time, I was sold on the idea of becoming a member of one of the Special Interest Houses (SIH). They're kind of like your classic Greek Fraternities or Sororities, except with a more specific focus. Back in 1993, there were seven of them (Art House, Community Service Club House, Computer Science House, Engineering House, International House, Photo House and Unity House). Each house had it's own dorm floor with special amenities and the members of each house participated in a good number of events--on campus and off--together. It struck me as a very unique way of doing things and didn't have any of the negative connotations that the Greek system held for those of us who could be quite easily (and correctly) considered "nerds, geeks and dorks."
The first one I looked at was Computer Science House. It focused on, you guessed it, computer science. They had the world's first Internet enabled soda machine (yes, you could place an order for soda from anywhere in the world--if you had an CompSci House debit account... and you could choose how long the machine would wait before dropping your can) and a lot of other neat tech stuff. It was the first SIH floor I visited on my first trip to the RIT campus.
On my second trip to the campus, I was taken through a different floor. Computer Science House had been in one of the hi-rise towers. That second floor I saw was, appropriately enough, on the second floor of a two story building. I had that tour at a time when most students had gone and most of the campus was empty. There were still a couple of students in this dorm when I made the trip through. As I walked down the hall I heard the "tick-tack" of computer keys stop and the slight rumble of chair wheels as I passed a room with an open door. A very large Asian guy (we're talking over six feet tall here! And not at all lanky.) came out and introduced himself. Terry was the first member of Community Service Club House (CSCH) that I met. I knew right then that CSCH was the place for me.
From the day I moved in through two years after I graduated, the people of CSCH played important rolls in my life. Many memories revolve around the red and blue neon sign that hung in our lounge window during my first years there, the glowing "CSCH" a beacon shining into the quad, greeting us when we came back from classes; basking us in it's oddly warm and comforting glow as we sat on the beat up couches talking through all hours of the night.
During those first years we were quite the collection of mis-matched social outcasts. Most of us hadn't been at the top of the pecking order in high school and that brought us close together. Nowhere near as close, though, as the joy we all got from serving others. Though our service, we made a big difference in a lot of people's lives--least of all our own.
I don't think there's anyone who came through our house--as a member or as a guest--that wasn't affected in some positive way by our family. I know that if it wasn't for the experiences I had at CSCH, I wouldn't at all be the person I am today.
I would be much less.
The organization died a quiet death three or four years after I graduated. Killed by more demanding academic schedules and a lack of non-freshman participation (brought on by a change in on-campus housing policy while dorms were renovated). Like all things, it ran its course.
Somewhere out there, that neon sign still glows... and somewhere else, there's a short stack of photo albums I have to get my hands on, as my own collection of pictures seems totally inadequate to support my memories.
But some of what I do have form that first year, I'm going to share with you now.
Well, not into college, per se, but into my college. You see, the application had to be in first, long before the others, so I'd be eligible for some financial aid... and by the time the other applications were due, I'd already gotten my acceptance letter from RIT. It wasn't my first choice school--I didn't have a first choice school. Like most of my life, I was kind of playing it by ear.
As has usually been the case, thing turned out wonderfully.
After getting accepted (which means I had already picked out a major), the first thing to do was decide where I was going to live. When I had visited the campus the first time, I was sold on the idea of becoming a member of one of the Special Interest Houses (SIH). They're kind of like your classic Greek Fraternities or Sororities, except with a more specific focus. Back in 1993, there were seven of them (Art House, Community Service Club House, Computer Science House, Engineering House, International House, Photo House and Unity House). Each house had it's own dorm floor with special amenities and the members of each house participated in a good number of events--on campus and off--together. It struck me as a very unique way of doing things and didn't have any of the negative connotations that the Greek system held for those of us who could be quite easily (and correctly) considered "nerds, geeks and dorks."
The first one I looked at was Computer Science House. It focused on, you guessed it, computer science. They had the world's first Internet enabled soda machine (yes, you could place an order for soda from anywhere in the world--if you had an CompSci House debit account... and you could choose how long the machine would wait before dropping your can) and a lot of other neat tech stuff. It was the first SIH floor I visited on my first trip to the RIT campus.
On my second trip to the campus, I was taken through a different floor. Computer Science House had been in one of the hi-rise towers. That second floor I saw was, appropriately enough, on the second floor of a two story building. I had that tour at a time when most students had gone and most of the campus was empty. There were still a couple of students in this dorm when I made the trip through. As I walked down the hall I heard the "tick-tack" of computer keys stop and the slight rumble of chair wheels as I passed a room with an open door. A very large Asian guy (we're talking over six feet tall here! And not at all lanky.) came out and introduced himself. Terry was the first member of Community Service Club House (CSCH) that I met. I knew right then that CSCH was the place for me.
From the day I moved in through two years after I graduated, the people of CSCH played important rolls in my life. Many memories revolve around the red and blue neon sign that hung in our lounge window during my first years there, the glowing "CSCH" a beacon shining into the quad, greeting us when we came back from classes; basking us in it's oddly warm and comforting glow as we sat on the beat up couches talking through all hours of the night.
During those first years we were quite the collection of mis-matched social outcasts. Most of us hadn't been at the top of the pecking order in high school and that brought us close together. Nowhere near as close, though, as the joy we all got from serving others. Though our service, we made a big difference in a lot of people's lives--least of all our own.
I don't think there's anyone who came through our house--as a member or as a guest--that wasn't affected in some positive way by our family. I know that if it wasn't for the experiences I had at CSCH, I wouldn't at all be the person I am today.
I would be much less.
The organization died a quiet death three or four years after I graduated. Killed by more demanding academic schedules and a lack of non-freshman participation (brought on by a change in on-campus housing policy while dorms were renovated). Like all things, it ran its course.
Somewhere out there, that neon sign still glows... and somewhere else, there's a short stack of photo albums I have to get my hands on, as my own collection of pictures seems totally inadequate to support my memories.
But some of what I do have form that first year, I'm going to share with you now.