I am in New Haven, Connecticut, for a conference. The conference is happening mostly indoors, at Yale Law School. I got here today and mostly was in the conference sessions. But in between, I have been sneaking out and walking around the campus and the town in a nostalgic happy touristy haze. It is lovely here, the thick humidity that we don't get in Maine, and all the creeping green ivy and trees dripping with flowers. And all the people, a whole city's worth of people, with no apparent fishermen so I know I'm not in my little city. I am walking around smiling and delighted at the whole thing.
Where does nostalgia come from? This place seemed normal to me when I was a college student. Old buildings, big deal, who cares. The buildings are magnificent, as it turns out, and I didn't much care about that when I was here. Except somehow I came to love them, deeply, because being near them makes me happy and tugs me back to memories and a time and a different self.
A friend who also works at the college I work at was talking with me about nostalgia. It's easy to imagine that it would be nice to be in college again, but he and I agreed that the students, if you know them and look at them, they are stressed and tired and anxious. We adults think they are carefree but they don't feel that way. They don't know who they are or what they will become, they are not sure whether they are okay or not, they haven't slept for days, they are behind on their reading and they are disappointing their parents and they can't focus on their assignment because they have an unreciprocated crush. Also, they are hung over. And there's a friend of their roommate's sleeping on their couch. Anyway, my friend told me that when he was a senior in college, he couldn't wait to get out, and he walked around campus on a sunny day, looking at all the buildings and repeating to himself: "This is a living hell. This is a living hell. This is a living hell." He did that so he wouldn't get falsely nostalgic.
I'm trying to remember that as I walk around this magical magnificent campus, especially when I see students trudging along. I don't know if I would have said it was a living hell for me when I was here. I had a lot of fun. There are so many good memories. But I was not happy, I wasn't comfortable, I wasn't at ease. I was not carefree. I am unequivocally happier now.
So why does this campus have such a hold on me? Why do I long to come back?