An open letter to the professors in Houston's basement

Dear Professors Pennington, Proctor, Clerge and Atherton,

Three weeks ago, in the Houston Hall basement, you guys put on a Scholars-in-Residence event called “Behind the Scenes: Professors.” I have a few confessions to make. First, I only decided to go to your event because of the "sushi provided" note at the bottom of the flyer. Second, I originally planned to just grab the sushi and then get out quick.

But I didn’t leave. I stayed for the full hour and a half and have kept thinking about it until now, when I decided it merited a thank you letter/cliff-notes for anyone who wasn’t there.

At one point, you were asked what you wanted your legacies to be. Professor Pennington, you said: “He made me feel like I wasn’t alone.” Professor Proctor, you only had two words for yours: “He cared.” I’ll let those statements speak for themselves, but I think they set a tone for the evening.

You also talked about your "aha moments" and the impacts you thought your work could have. Talking about everything from seeing bacteria display quantum behavior to emulating W.E.B. Du Bois and hearing Rita’s Latina sound “erased” in the middle of West Side Story, your responses were full of genuine love for what you did. One day, I want to tell someone about my "aha moment." When I do, I hope my voice holds the same honest passion that yours did.

But perhaps more important than saying wise/inspiring/funny/interesting things, you created a safe space. Building walls of honest frankness, self-deprecatory jokes and personal anecdotes, you made Houston’s sketchy basement lounge into a place of community. One kid raised his hand for a question; he talked about feeling isolated, about struggling to adjust and connect, about not knowing what he wanted to do in life. He got choked up. Everything he had said hit home for me. I love it here, but being a college freshman can be really, really hard. You didn’t lie about that. You called your own freshman years “difficult,” “overwhelming,” even “traumatizing.” I can’t say how good it felt to have those things given weight and for a space to be created where it was okay to show hurt.

But you also gave powerful advice: Be patient, don’t feel like you’re supposed to suffer, remember that you’ve got lots of time to figure out the future, always tap into your authentic selves. You made it sound as though at its heart, college was really about making yourself happy, and as dumb as it sounds, that had never occurred to me before. Since then, I’ve thought a lot about letting "happy" be my guide -- in choosing classes, making friends, joining clubs and deciding what to do on Saturday nights.

I know this happened a while ago, but it’s shaped my past month in a lot of important ways. It’s also just made me keep coming back to how grateful I am that the professors here -- and a whole lot of other people -- honestly do care. From the bottom of my heart, thank you for speaking with honesty, passion and love. It means a lot, to a lot of us.

Sincerely,

Clara Wagner