Personally, I never felt like I fit in very well at UChicago. I often felt distant and isolated from others. That changed in winter quarter of my senior year. I decided to major in Visual Arts and finally drop Physics down to my minor. More specifically, I applied to the Studio Track for the VA major, which was a cohort of around 9 people focusing on studio work. It wasn’t until then that I felt at home at this school. We all had a shared studio space, where we would hang out, work, talk, sleep, eat, pretty much do everything together. Our BA thesis show would open April 5th, which is what we all worked tirelessly towards. Never had I felt so much excitement in my time at Chicago, I was looking forward to being able to display something I had worked so hard at, for so many hours, for friends, family, faculty, and the public to see. I couldn’t wait, everything was lining up perfectly: I was excited for the future, I made amazing friends that supported me through various heart-breaking critiques, I was enjoying what I was doing. What a reward! After years of hating my experience here, not fitting in, torturing myself over how I wasn’t good enough to be here, I finally had a chance to enjoy my senior spring with new friends, new work, and a show dedicated to us and our achievements.

Like many other events and plans, that didn’t happen. When we received the news of going virtual for spring quarter, everything I was looking forward to ran through my mind, knowing it wouldn’t happen now. The quarter that I was suppose to enjoy, is the one quarter that was not going to happen. But then it hit me, does this mean there will be no BA show? There was hope for sometime, that there would be a soft opening, or a closing at the end of the quarter instead of an opening, or simply no opening or closing but the gallery would remain open for people to see. Finally, the decision was made to cancel the show. The sadness that came over me was worse than everything I had felt the first three years at this school, because this was supposed to be our moment. It was also supposed to be my moment: the moment I would feel proud of myself, the moment I would experience happiness, the moment I would bond with my cohort over all the hard work that was finally in the gallery for others to see.

Months later we were informed that the show would happen in October, but there was so much uncertainty. Would everyone be in Chicago for the show? The future seems unpredictable. While this did cheer me up, I can’t shake the sadness of knowing that at this moment, I would have been enjoying spring with my friends, feeling nothing but pride and completeness.