Diary of a Nostalgic UWI Student

Written by Jodi-Ann Small

Starting at a new school in a new environment was an extremely daunting experience that most people can relate to. I remember the first few weeks of my first year when I would be scrambling all over the vast campus to find my classes and getting lost more times than I can count. Being physically present in a class surrounded by students with the air condition on full blast sending shivers down my spine seems like a lifetime ago.

One of the best parts about school before COVID-19 was going to the Commuters Lounge, a quiet place to unwind from the bustle of campus, a great place to catch up on work, do assignments, eat, chat and catch up on well-deserved sleep.  Everything now is a distant memory far from my reach, a thing of the past. Today, just a few easy clicks, and I am in class.

A memory that will be permanently etched in my mind like words on wood is a group presentation in my first-year foundation class, Critical Reading and Expository Writing. This day was particularly hectic for me.

After weeks of research, practice, I was pulling all-nighters, which included taking ‘5-minute naps’ that turned into sleeping until the morning. I’m sure all university students can relate to that moment, waking up startled, suddenly realizing that you slept through the entire night, and cursing yourself for letting it happen.

Anyway, on the day of the presentation, my group and I had to run from one side of campus to the next since we were late, our hearts erratically beating due to our exercise-deprived bodies. Fortunately, we made it to class on time, and from there, my nerves skyrocketed. I felt like there was a whole orchestra playing in my stomach. Why was I so nervous? I had a graded dance presentation, which hinged on how well I danced. Ironically, dancing is an ability that I do not possess and will never possess.
Let me paint the classroom’s scene for you. Imagine a room filled with about 15 pairs of critical eyes looking up at us and the air filled with anticipation.

“Ready guys?” Alexia, my group leader, asked. My two other group members, Christina, Ashley, and I, nodded, swallowing our nerves.

We broke out into a flurry of dances, including the ska and new dancehall moves. There was a flurry of hip movements, intricate footsteps, and spins, all of which I surprisingly remembered and did decently for a person with two left feet. The end of our performance was met with an onslaught of applauds and cheers from my class. I could finally breathe a sigh of relief. It was over. I must admit, though, I had a lot of fun because I came out of my comfort zone and laughed throughout most of the dances.
“Christina, I had no idea you could dance like that,” my lecturer remarked with a wide smile. Neither did I. Her dance skills were the highlight of the whole presentation.

“No man! Goodie come out and get weh well nice inna the dance,” one student exclaimed, and others nodded in agreement.  
That day is especially special now because I have come to appreciate physical human contact, shared laughter, and experiences in a physical environment with friends and classmates. I would give anything to get that back someday.