In the great blizzard of '08, our campus banded together and bonded together. We filled Cowan Hall to watch a dress rehearsal of the Dance Concert. We packed into the Cardinal's Nest and wiped the tables after we were done eating. We slid down the hill at Alum Creek Park. We were together. We were together, we are together and we are not alone. The class sizes at this college make it impossible to be alone. Our professors know us by our first names. They know about our lives and we know about theirs. Dr. Shpancer remembers the first time he heard fireworks after coming to the U.S. from Israel. He was on a date, and when he heard the explosions, he ducked to the ground for cover (He did not have a second date). Dr. Jackson recalls traveling to Africa and being mistaken for a prostitute. Dr. Joshi tells us about the hush that falls on a crowd at a cricket game in India. We're connected together.We aren't alone in our rejoicing over any sports victory against Capital. We aren't alone when we ask for more breadsticks at the free spaghetti dinners from Church of the Master. We aren't alone when we greet Jeff Sabo and he tells us he's "doin' pretty well" or "not tooooooo shabby." We aren't alone when we pile into the free theater late at night. We also aren't alone in our grieving. We lost classmates who were way too young. Josh Worthington. Caitlin Leasure. Gone because of someone else's bad decision. After those losses, I hope we will join together in our commitment not to go near the wheel of a car when we've had something to drink. The past has caught up with us, and now we're looking toward the future. But this theme-this togetherness, this idea that we're not alone-will carry over into the next phase of our lives. We began as freshmen in the Community Plunge, and many of us continued doing Community Service through the Center for Community Engagement, Greek life or Otterbein Christian Fellowship. Suddenly, we weren't just connected with each other-we were connected with the rest of the world.
The same phenomenon happened when we got to vote in our first national election the fall of our freshman year. I believe we have a responsibility and a privilege to participate in community service, to vote and to continue this tradition we've developed at Otterbein: togetherness. That could mean greeting your future colleagues by name and knowing about their lives after the example set by Otterbein. It could also mean much more. I believe we're not alone because there's a God who loves us and is with us all the time, but not everyone believes that. Can we join together in spite of that difference? Even if we do cast our vote in November, what happens when our candidate doesn't win? Can we work alongside our so-called opponents in spite of that disappointment? If we go on to get married and we feel like we can't see eye to eye with that person, will we still be able to work together, and live together? Obi-Wan Kenobi has something to teach us about bringing people together. In "Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope," he says, "The Force is what gives a Jedi his power. It's an energy field created by all living things. It surrounds us and penetrates us. It binds the galaxy together." We are that Force. We are a big class, a driving Force, that binds the galaxy together. Or, if not the galaxy, at least our own little worlds and our own little realms. Whatever location we find ourselves in after graduation, that will be our galaxy, and we can be the Force that binds it together. Even if we leave this place and lose touch with each other, we can still be together in a common purpose. That purpose can unite us wherever we work, or wherever we continue our education. I believe that purpose is to seek justice for those who are oppressed, befriend those who are lonely, learn about those whose cultures are different, and even love those whom we consider our enemies. Can you join together in that purpose? I want to leave you with Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.'s words: "We must learn to live together as brothers or perish together as fools." To the class of 2008: It has been a privilege living together as brothers and sisters. And sometimes we did perish together, when we acted like fools. But we have a fresh start. Today. Let's join in our purpose. Let's be the driving Force. We must learn to live together as brothers or perish together as fools. t&c;
SARAH MARTINDELL IS A SENIOR ENGLISH MAJOR AND COLUMNIST FOR THE t&c.;
