User:Nikipound

I'm Lauren. If you know me, it's from CTY Carlisle, in 2005 and 2006. More specifically, the Latin class of 2005, session 2, and the Philosophy of Mind class of 2006. I fell in love with CTY, as many did, at my first dance, which was actually the second dance of the session. My class wasn't so great sometimes, but I liked it, and I loved my hall. But it wasn't until the dance that I started to understand what this place would mean to me. I was uncomfortable, scared, and confused that night, trying to find my friends in the dark, trying to make sense of the mass of movement and sound and color that must have been people but not so that I could tell outside the circle I found. I did find some of my friends, but it was a mysterious girl with pink glowsticks and a flowing sort of grace in the music who helped me the most. All she did was give me advice a few times, help me feel confident, but it really made a whole lot of difference. There were others who helped, whose faces and names I never really learned, but I found a place on the dance floor that I could never have found outside, and met people with whom I might not have interacted at all otherwise. I learned traditions and rhythm and fun, and I recall with perfect clarity moments that should have been embarrassing but are simply joyful. Between the activities, meet market, the teachers and TAs and RAs, the discussion and break times of class, and the dances, I learned more at CTY in three weeks than I would learn in as many months anywhere else. And I loved more. I still tell the story of my first Passionfruit, because it's still special to me. I was told about a tradition on the last night that CTYers would stay up all night at a sleepover (apparently it was really easy to stay awake when everyone else was) and then go to Passionfruit in the morning. I looked at her oddly, leading her to discover that I'd never been to Passionfruit before. I was subsequently intimidated by her declaration that I would have to be "devirginized." But that didn't mean I had any doubts about going. I adored these people, and their traditions. I would follow their path because I knew it would be fun. The strange nicknames (Pickles, Ippy, Kumquat, Emo Mike, Marxi...) of the people I'd met because of the dances were simply an integral part of the traditions and vividness of this place, and perhaps this tradition was nicknamed as well. So I went. But first, I had to stay up all night. Now this was unusually difficult, because our sleepover actually involved sleep for most of my hallmates. I lay on the floor all night, drifting in and out of hallucinatory, logic-twisting dreams, until an alarm went off. I thought it was mine, that I'd forgotten to turn it off, so I went to my room and realized that it was not. It was much louder than that. I slipped on shoes as I walked out, still abnormally calm, to make sure people woke up because that alarm was a fire alarm. In the wee hours of the morning. So there was that. And then they went back to sleep and I went back to trying not to sleep, until my watch alarm went off when I set it to at just before 6 AM. Then I went to Passionfruit, leaving at 6 AM as exactly as possible, feeling especially giddy. I got a little lost, and people were already there, on blankets and on the grass, many with drinks- I'd forgotten to bring one, even though I knew it was necessary. Fortunately, I was provided by the Emperor with a Diet Dr. Pepper, so it was okay. I hardly remember my devirginization, except that it involved some sort of singing and skipping in a circle. How could I mind that? The hollow, almost musical clunks from behind me on the quad caught my attention, and someone explained to me that they were playing bagel ball with an empty water gallon. Also, that we had to eat any bagel that fell in front of us. I don't remember my toast, but I remember the sentiment, of gratitude and love and friendship. I also remember the bagel that fell in front of me, smattered with dirt, and picking it up. I ate it as the ceremony continued, and it was the best bagel that I ever tasted. I wish I had more concrete memories, more time to spend, but my time was up as soon as I left in '06, knowing that I had been 16 since the beginning of the session and there could be no more for me. There was amazing there, and incredible. There were friendships I still have, and a love of music and dancing that stemmed entirely from the dances. I still get cheers when I dance, and people ask me where I learned, and if I can teach them. I tell them that I learned to dance at nerd camp, and all I can tell them is what I do, not how to do it their own way, which is far more important. I miss seeing the individuality in others more, and I will always love and appreciate CTY and the people who made it so amazing.