Abigail Moore Bryan Reaume Moreau FYE November 27, 2021 I Doubt; I Isolate; I Hope. “Look at all of the options out there for living life and pick the ones that you feel called to” (“Why Letting Go of Expectations is a Freeing Habit” by Julia Hogan – Moreau FYE Week Nine). Senior year of high school this simple advice took over my mind. The “options out there for living life” are strictly defined in universities’ demographics, statistics, and desperate recruiting emails. Applying to college, I was trying to academically sell myself to schools, and ultimately ways of living life, without really knowing the goods I was selling or whom I was selling to. I felt lost and certainly not “called.” Indecision has skewered my existence since I was a child walking and re-walking through gas station minimart aisles analyzing which candy I ought to bring up to the register as my father yelled that he’ll leave without me if I don’t pick one soon. Because I spend so much critical time debating the best course of action—be it a road trip snack or what I want to do with my life—I never know if I’ve made the right call. I know my reasons, but I’ve lost sight of my desire. Being conscious of this trend only makes me more indecisive because I know I won’t end up happy with my choice. In high school I wasn’t better at one subject over another and no steam-engine passion lead me. There are a hundred reasons why I chose Notre Dame in the end, but I still question whether this path for living life is one I am called to. On top of my justifications for why I’m at this school and in this class lies a sleeping dragon doubt—I am only here because it’s the “best” school I got into. Because I don’t trust my own judgement, did I relinquish my choice to the masses and their objective ratings? Fr. John Jenkins in his commencement speech for Wesley Seminary stated, “There is no law of motion in the physical universe that guaranteed that you would end up where you are today. More likely, the many demands of life were pushing you in other directions, and you pushed back” (“Wesley Theological Seminary 2012 Commencement Address” by Fr. John Jenkins – Moreau FYE Week Ten). When I apply to this to my freshman experience, I can’t help but ask did I push back? My mom called my grandpa with squirrely excitement when I got in. My grandpa, when he visited me this semester, told me twice how every boy in his kindergarten class dreamed they would play football for the Fighting Irish one day. I wonder whether I chose to Notre Dame to fulfill their dream or demands. I even got into a far better acclaimed architecture program, but I opted for Notre Dame’s. Am I giving my life for my parents’ and a 1940s kindergarten classroom’s fantasy rather than realizing my own? These doubts that I have encountered are emphasized by the community I’m met with here. The Notre Dame students are not exactly my kind of people although many are kind people. On my birthday last week, I Ubered to a coffee shop alone to do homework as a present to myself. When I sat down in the car, my driver said, “Well, you’re easy to spot. You stand out on the curb there—don’t look like the other Notre Dame girls.” I laughed and agreed. I guess it really is that obvious. I’ve been alone, outside of my classes, this whole semester. Although I’ve enjoyed the solitude immensely, I know that having friends and participating in a community is richer and more fun. There are always walls between me and new people that I don’t know how to break. They make me believe that others can’t see me, can’t know me. When I ought to be “penetrating the illusion of separateness and touching the reality of interdependence,” I am enforcing the illusion instead (“Thirteen Ways of Looking at Community” by Parker J. Palmer – Moreau FYE Week Eleven). In some ways I am glad I am different from my peers because it gives me a clear sense of my own identity. I am not washed out by being indistinct. However, my independent identity doesn’t negate my need for interdependent connection. If I had gone to a school with people who love backpacking and music by artists no one has heard of, maybe I would see fewer walls between me and those peers. Yet, I have not only encounter doubt and separation. However much I like to convince myself I’m drifting as an unrecognized plastic product in a uniform sea, when I left for camping one weekend (without letting my roommate know by accident), I was bombarded by texts and missed calls from my roommate, RA, and rector as soon as I reentered service. I felt terribly guilty for troubling them, but they also showed me that, whether I’ll accept it or not, there is a community I am now connected to. There are people watching out for me, and I have a responsibility to them. Yes, they were mostly just doing their jobs, but it made me realize that I have chosen this community to be a part of it not to observe it closely and hope I slip through its cracks unnoticed. Whether the decision to attend Notre Dame was initially out of familial pressure, a generalized ranking, or a passive giving up of my choice at the end of the day I am here. I would regret leaving knowing that I did not let myself receive this community—that I did not see how it would change me through to the end. I do not want to give up on Notre Dame just because I could have gone somewhere with people more like who I am. I came to Notre Dame to find the person I want to become. The hope I have for myself is that I learn “to look out upon the world like the awestruck shepherds who gazed in wonder at Mary’s newborn son and, during more difficult times, to emulate the friends who stood by her decades later as she stared at his cross willing herself to trust in God’s promise” (“Holy Cross and Christian Education” by Campus Ministry at the University of Notre Dame – Moreau FYE Week 12). This is the Holy Cross Education’s hope as well. Although I might question my sanity leaving the California climate and year-round access to mountain trails and ocean waves, I hunger to be challenged. I cannot discredit my peers before I know them, my choice before I’ve lived it. That Notre Dame students are different from me means I have much I can learn about them—I have much to learn from them. I will continue to doubt myself, as I first stated it is part of my condition, but I will leave my heart open to this place so that it might call me.