My final thoughts on the communities I’ve had the privilege of being a part of in Davis
By RACHEL GAUER — features@theaggie.org
My dad graduated from UC Davis with a history degree over 30 years ago. As grad season has pushed me to be reflecting and reminiscing constantly, I recently asked him what his favorite part of college was. He texted me back quickly, answering that it was the accomplishment of making it through even when he thought he couldn’t. Then he called me, amending his answer: It was the people. The relationships he formed and still treasures to this day, whether it be those he goes on “guy trips” with annually or those who he lost contact with over the decades yet still made his years here a little brighter.
The Davis experience my dad had was worlds away from the experience I had over the past four years. He enrolled as a transfer student and spent his time working constantly to pay tuition and rent and having the occasional fun with his core group of friends (particularly at the now demolished “Grad” bar). His meal staple consisted of rice topped with mustard when he was particularly short on cash, and yet he still glows ever so fondly when recounting his Davis experience.
During my adolescence, my family and I would frequently pack into the minivan and head to Davis for a Saturday. We’d get my dad’s absolute favorite, Dos Coyotes, and stroll around downtown and campus while he relished in the memories of his time here. I’d wonder, how could such a little, sleepy town contain so much fondness?
Thanks to my parents who recognized the value of getting an education and helped me with everything they had, my four years have not been marked by dinners of rice and mustard. Instead, I’ve had the privilege to learn in ways I had never, ever expected. Most importantly, I’ve learned why my dad seemed to glow every time we’d exit I-80 for Davis.
I’ve been able to pick up a double major in Italian, learning what it means to speak and live life in another language while simultaneously learning the value of being part of a small community who shares a common interest. I studied abroad and saw corners of the world that my parents had never even dreamed of seeing. I joined The Aggie and learned the satisfaction of being able to use words to inform and to share the stories of our community.
My dad always told me that the main purpose in getting a college degree is to “learn how to learn.” Whether or not you remember the details of the French Revolution or what exactly symbolic logic is, it’s the process of learning how you can gather new information and use it in such a way that helps you to think critically and create meaning.
When he used to tell me this, I always thought it pertained solely to academics: learning how to write a half-decent paper the night it’s due, how to read a scholarly article and actually understand it and how to participate in meaningful discussion. All of these have certainly proven to me even more important than I’d imagined, and I am a firm believer that education is power. However, academics have proven to be just a sliver of my college experience.
Now that I’ve nearly completed my college experience, I’d like to amend his logic: College is about learning how to learn and doing so surrounded by a community. Whether it be your core friend group, your roommates or your classmates that you’ll never see after the 10-week quarter, it is being surrounded by others who are all, also, learning to learn.
Above all, college is learning how to build a home. Not the physical place — interior designing skills aren’t typical of most college graduates. Instead, it’s the sense of home you feel when you’re late to class after running into one too many friends from all areas of your life — clubs, classes, social circles — and knowing that those five minutes of lateness are completely worth it. It’s learning what your bagel order is (salt bagel with lox spread, naturally) and ordering it so often at the local bagel shop that they know your order as soon as you walk in the door. It’s learning exactly what time of the day the CoHo will be flooded with students and what times it will be deserted. It’s spending so much time studying in a particular building with your classmates that the sound of the screeching elevator has become the charming soundtrack to your life.
It’s hard to remember a time when the only Davis I knew was one full of strangers. The privilege of spending the last four years filling my memory of this town with so much new knowledge and experiences and people I hold so dearly has been a privilege for which I am eternally grateful.
To say I’ve learned to learn here is certainly true, but also an understatement. Above all, I’ve learned how to create a home with people I’ve chosen to love and have chosen to love me back.
Written by: Rachel Gauer — features@theaggie.org
