After an entire year of trying to divine its headwaters, I still have yet to locate the legendary fountain of camaraderie which fills campus with joy and friendship. Maybe the secret lies within the chicken biscuits from the stu. Perhaps Midnight Oil pours a little drop into each cup. No, it must be the experience of walking out of the Heritage and hearing your name called out by at least 20 different people on the front lawn.
Let’s refer to this elusive friendship force by the term “H Factor.” It begins predictably enough:
“So, how was your summer?”
“Oh, I worked a little and chillaxed with friends and family. You?”
“It wasn’t too exciting; I just did an internship.”
My suitemate and I were catching up on our summer experiences. Obviously, we had riveting firsthand accounts that we couldn’t wait to share. Nothing exciting seems threatening on the horizon, but at this precise moment the “H Factor” strikes.
“Are you ready for organic this year?”
“Yeah, I can’t wait. Do you know how long I’ve been wanting to get my hands on a spectrometer and start setting up my own lab apparatuses? Monday can’t come soon enough.”
“I know, right? Just being free to work semi-independently in a lab – it sounds so exciting! My friends all think I’m crazy though, to be studying as much chemistry as I am.”
“I completely understand. I just open my mouth to start explaining chemistry topics, and my friends’ eyes automatically glass over. Oh well. I have a great Bible class this year too….”
Harding University – the one place in the world where you can go from a detailed discussion of stoichiometry to a detailed contrast between Arminianism and Calvinism. Not that my friends have been known to debate gun control and abortion while studying for a test in the chemistry office and quoting Shakespearean soliloquies. The conversations we have are not only intellectually stimulating, but also personally challenging. When my admissions counselor told me that I would form my best friends while here at college, I couldn’t begin to see how. However, two semesters of the most difficult and rewarding experiences imaginable have taught me differently. Late night Skype calls, chats at Starbucks and random conversations before and after Bible class – these remain as some of the most precious memories I will ever experience. I find myself telling stories more often now, simply because I have more adventures worth sharing.
I was walking through the McInteer rotunda the Sunday before classes started. No one was around, besides someone studying in a nook on the third floor. It was an eerie experience, not only because the rotunda has some intimidating pictures along the balconies, but also because an entire new class of Harding students were about to experience that Harding Bible building rush for the first time tomorrow. This phenomenon also defies explanation, but it is somewhat of a cross between rush-hour traffic Memphis and the adrenaline rush of plunging 30 feet down over the cliffs at Heber Springs. Walking down that sacred stairwell, calling out to friends traipsing across Africa and South America, sipping the last few drops from a caramel Javalanche, all while attempting to maintain hand contact with the rail and eye contact with your classmates. Bible was my last class on Friday, and I always ended up making my weekend plans while descending the stairs for the final time that week. So many ideas collide at this point, and maybe this is the best example of what the “H Factor” can do.
My friends back home may never understand why I chose to come study at an institution 12 hours away in the middle of Arkansas. That’s OK; I didn’t really understand myself when I enrolled here. But I guarantee that a campus visit would greatly change their perception of this place. Maybe it’s the chicken biscuits, or perhaps it’s the secret ingredient at Midnight Oil. I may never be able to pen its description in a dictionary, but I should be used to that by now. My first class at Harding was on the definition of quality; we spent four months looking for an answer and eventually concluded that we would never find it. Or we would go insane first.
