CHANGE

I had underestimated how much luggage space I would need for the culmination of four years’ living. It was a four-day weekend, and half of my peers were already gone. I had piled my belongings in a corner. There were too many bags to count. I sat on the edge of the bed looking at my things. Almost all of them were blue, with that all too familiar golden crest, mocking me with its ostensible grandeur. I felt irreconcilable sadness and anger. All of my things stained by the hypocrisy of those dirty blue Academy bags, the same Academy that I had hoped to love, aimed to please, and ultimately failed. All of my things that had belonged here for so long…

As I rolled the luggage cart out of the room, the plebe on duty sprang to attention. “Good afternoon, ma’am!”

“Hey Mr. H___,” I said. “Take care, be good, and good luck.”

“Thank you, ma’am. You too.”

He carried on, patrolling the hallways in his white security belt, a piece of adjustable corded cotton, with a silver buckle, passed on from patrolman to patrolman. He was shorter than me, skinnier than me, and less imposing than me, which isn’t saying much. I had trained him his first semester, and wondered how a young man with a squeaky voice and a penchant for classical music had ended up at the Academy. I suppose we’ve all got a story. He was later killed in Iraq in 2003.

“Go navy, sir! Beat army, sir!” I heard behind me.

I turned around. Three of my plebes stood before me.

“Ma’am,” one of them said, apparently the spokesperson. “We’re sorry about what happened, and we wanted to say good luck.”

One of the plebes wiped her eyes. Tears began forming, and with restraint they merely blurred my vision, without going anywhere, perennial tears lodged in my eyes.

“Thanks you guys,” I said. “I appreciate it. No matter what happens, just try not to give up,” I said. They all nodded their heads like they knew what I was talking about. “It really is worth it if you can get to the end.”

“Yes, ma’am,” they all said in unison.

“Okay, take care,” I said.

“Oh… and by the way,” I said as I turned around, only to find that they hadn’t moved yet, “call me Anne.”

We shared a smile, I slid into my jacket, and for the last time, walked out of the hallowed halls of Bancroft Hall.