Annie Tian | Student Life

Grade school has tons of markers to remind you that you’re growing up, whether it’s birthdays, a mark of your height on the wall, learning a new math skill, or leveling up to chapter books. In college, those markers aren’t as distinguishable, but when fall rolls around, I inevitably start to think about the years flying by. Moving in always comes with a one-way ticket down memory lane.

Looking back on my four years of move-ins, the most dominant memory I have is the heat. There’s nothing that makes me question my choice in university like the St. Louis August weather. But really, the weather was the most consistent thing about my experience. And yet, each year of lifting boxes and getting sunburned has a distinct, unique memory in my mind, because as my housing changed, so did I.

Year one: I pulled up to Shepley Drive with a car packed to the brim and my entire family. It was crowded, I was nervous, and I had no idea what to expect. After filling and dragging multiple bins of decorative pillows, wall embellishments, closet dividers, and anything else that had been recommended to me via social media, I got started on the actual moving. The combined efforts of my family and me led to too many cooks in the kitchen, but also a somewhat swift process. A day later, after an emotional goodbye, they left me and my perfectly organized room to fend for myself at college — a completely unfamiliar environment where I could barely figure out how to get to the main campus from my dorm. 

Year two: my dad and I arrived on the South 40 in a car so full you couldn’t see through the back windshield. Campus was empty, and I was moving in on a very rigid timetable. The calculated move-in was because I was there early for WUSA training and to facilitate Bear Beginnings. Just one year later, I was moving back to take on the job of making a cohort of first-year students feel supported and welcomed just as I had been — so evidently things worked out after my family left me on the Koenig lawn last August. Move-in itself was also way less ceremonious. I had the vision of my room from last year, knew what worked and what didn’t, and already felt at home on campus. While it wasn’t the normal sophomore year moving experience, it was marked by a comfortability that had been missing a year ago.

Year 3: I was moving off campus. Not only was I stepping up to an apartment with a kitchen, but my relationship with St. Louis was shifting. This year, my mom moved me in, and we shuttled back and forth from the storage unit to the Lofts until my decor was all in place. While my actual room supplies had been filtered out to only include the necessities, my over-preparedness this year manifested in kitchenware. But facing new challenges, like the increased distance from campus and cooking all my meals, also brought me freedom and better opportunities to explore the city I had been living in for 2 years. Junior year was spent trying new Loop restaurants, experimenting with recipes, paying attention to local events, and being more in tune with St. Louis.

Which brings me to year 4: After being abroad for my Spring semester, I made my grand return to the Lou earlier than in years past. I moved into my current apartment in June and settled into my first St. Louis summer. With this move-in, landlords were involved, utilities were on my mind, and when the shower broke during the first week, I couldn’t just file a university maintenance request. But the shower is now fixed, my move has long since been completed, and this apartment truly feels like home. Senior year, I have a set of keys instead of an ID to get into my building, but everything else feels similar to the life I adjusted to last fall.

That said, living off campus and having a kitchen are not the only things that feel familiar. These days I rarely use Google Maps to get around, I recognize street names, and I know my favorite restaurants in different neighborhoods. My life is still incredibly tied to campus, but I have a little separation from it both physically and symbolically. So, this year at the end of August, I was privy to everyone else’s move-in, whether it was into a first-year dorm or first apartment. And for the first time, I felt the weight of the growth marker. Here, your housing grows up with you, or maybe vice versa, and I’m suddenly all grown up.