Photo Courtesy/Meghan Pascual
If you had asked me in high school, going in-state for college was out of the question. I looked far beyond the South, with dreams of heading somewhere up north: Boston, Vermont or a small town in upstate New York. There was no telling me otherwise.
It wasn’t until my junior year that I toured the University of Georgia for a school trip. It might’ve been the idea of going against my Florida-loving family, the culture of the city or a little of both, but soon UGA became my top choice.
Yet, once I enrolled and started my freshman year, I started to question my decision. Did I actually like it as much as I thought I would? What about the mountain towns or northern cities I had wanted? I grappled with these questions throughout that first year, even submitting transfer applications just to see "what would happen."
However, I simultaneously tried to poke holes in the freshman year campus bubble and see if I could discover more to Athens than just the university.
Most of my adventures were small: taking walks through the Bloomfield neighborhood after class, or going for drives so long I hit the cow pastures on the outskirts of the Connector. Despite this, my doubts still lingered.
As I started to experience more of the city in my next year, my doubts started to fade. I began to realize that in order to truly enjoy Athens, I needed to dive headfirst into clubs, the culture and its people. I credit this partially to the class assignments and organizations I was part of, but also to my own curiosity into just what made UGA an institution worthy of devotion.
The turning point came when I began looking at how the local community thrived beyond student life. I didn’t fully grasp it when I first arrived, but there’s a reason townie culture is so strong here: the sense of belonging in Athens extends far past a four-year degree, whether or not you stay.
And now, over my three years here, I’ve realized that no matter where else you look, there is no other college town quite like Athens. Comparing experiences with friends at other Southern schools, I notice there’s often a missing piece in their story. Where other towns balance unevenly between school and city, Athens is a perfect equilibrium.
One of the places that truly put the Athens community into perspective for me was Hendershot’s. I found the place on a whim my freshman year while I was on my search to find my favorite latte in Athens (if you ever go, please get the Classic City latte & thank me later), and found that outside of their regular hours as a coffeeshop, they hosted comedy shows, musical performances and jazz nights. Most of their staff were current students or recently graduated. The baristas knew customers by name, and I came so frequently that I would see the same customers on the patio.
This place solidified, in my eyes, the tight-knit community of Athens. Even despite being a student, places like Hendershots felt like a glimpse into an almost-movie, where everyone knew everyone.
This moment truly came full circle for me this past month when I interviewed one of their employees for a class project. Almost immediately after starting the interview, I found out that not only were we from the same hometown, but also went to the same middle and high school.
What he told me was that he also never initially planned to enjoy Athens as much as he did, but the people that he met at third spaces like Hendershots made him realize that community is what you make it.
Community is exactly what you make it, and it may take time, but it always comes to fruition.
I could list off a million Athens memories, but I’ll leave it at this: despite the cliché, in a time like your twenties, the company you keep can influence every decision you make. Building on the good and ridding yourself of the bad can help you appreciate your current community and take advantage of the experiences offered to you, because your next adventure could just be a matter of saying “yes.”
Strike Out,
Meghan Pascual
Editor: Maia Geraci
Athens